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A Hopeless Case 


The Remarkable Experience of an Unromantic 
Individual With a Romantic Na^fie 


BT LUTHER H. BICKFORD 


jPYRiGHr 




jur 271889 . /: 
fsinlL, 


CHICAGO 

CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY 
175 Dearborn Street 
1S89 


"FZ b 


Copyright 1S89 
By Luther H. Bickford 


With an humble apology to an already 
sorely affl^icted public^ the author 
proceeds. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


i 

An Unpretentious Narrative 


CONTENTS 

I. The Matinee 5 

II. Likes and Dislikes. 24 

III. “Broken Hearts’* 37 

IV. The Dream 56 

V. An Interrupted Breakfast 68 

VI. What the Newspapers Said 82 

VII. The Prosecution Rests 96 

VIII. The Defense Begins 108 

IX. A Reappearance 128 


A HOPELESS CASE 


LESLIE MARLTON’S STORY 
I 

Every one, nearly, speaks of luck. I never 
believed in it. You hear of bad luck and good 
luck and, sometimes (in the west) of “ passable” 
luck. I know a man who smashed three look- 
ing-glasses in as many days. On the fourth, he 
fell heir to an estate valued at $50,000^ on the 
fifth was visited by a number of politicians, on 
the sixth was nominated a candidate for the 
State senate, and several weeks later, landed in 
that seat of power through an overwhelming 
majority. Four years later he entered the 
lower house of Congress and to-day, it is said, 
has an eye on the upper house. There is a snug 
position in a certain white executive mansion, 
just yawning for that man. Now is this Itt 


6 


A HOPELESS CASE 


accordance with the superstitious decree? I 
think not, and therefore never review my ex- 
periences as ‘‘lucky” or “unlucky,” for I look 
upon the incident in the light of a lesson. 

My unfortunate acquaintance with Kohler 
began on a certain day in July — to be concise, 
designated as a day in American history when 
one is supposed to discharge Chinese fireworks 
and conduct one’s self in a manner considered 
highly disgraceful at any other time. 

This day might be commonly described as 
“ insufferably hot,” but that would in no way 
do justice to it, for the sun glared on the people, 
the horses, the carts, the steeples, the houses of 
the city with an insolence that seemed intoler- 
able. 

I had risen early that morning, although my 
duties at the theatre on the night previous were 
very fatiguing, I having been cast for an 
exceedingly heavy part, one that necessitated 
much stage work, and had not retired until 
the hands on my watch were in decidedly close 
proximity to the figure one. Nevertheless, 6 
o’clock found me decidedly wide-awake and 
attiring myself in the lightest of “light weight” 


A HOPEI.ESS CASE 


7 


suits to be found in my somewhat too extensive 
wardrobe. I dressed with much care, although I 
most frankly say there was no person, exclud- 
ing, of course, myself, who would have consid- 
ered the occasion demanded it. In fact, Rich- 
mond, my room-mate, roundly denounced it. 
The uncompromising truth was, I had an 
engagement to meet. The matter was in no 
especial need of being pressed until i o’clock in 
the afternoon, yet so greatly agitated was I, I 
fear my sleep had been seriously interrupted by 
my mind dwelling on the “coming event” for 
a too lengthy time the day and evening previous. 

No threatening or imperative creditor caused 
this — I think I am commendably free from 
debts of all kinds — nor was it the death of a 
dear friend or relative, the unexpected bequeath- 
ing of a large fortune, nor the — well, nor any 
of the evils and delights of that order, the 
impatient flesh is heir to. Misfortune seldom 
troubles me. I really have but one misfortune 
— the possession of a romantic name. 

It was a young lady. 

Miss Marion Bar bury is a very attractive, not 
to say charming young woman, whose success 


8 


A HOPELESS CASE 


as an ingenue with the famous Liston stock 
company, at Liston’s theatre, has been — histrion- 
ically speaking — tremendous. She is in every 
way a typical ingenue^ vivacious, sprightly, 
with clear brown eyes, a proper amount of 
brown hair to correspond, and the brownest of 
cheeks any girl, soubrette or otherwise, on the 
stage or away from it, was ever blessed with. 
Miss Barbury is, one might say, a brown girl 
altogether — only the very common Christian 
name being needed to complete the symphony 
in brown. 

There are, of course, people with whom Miss 
Barbury’s style of beauty is not taking. Miss 
Phialgirl, whose interpretation of Pauline is 
execrable — yet who is firmly impressed there is 
not a better on the stage, such being the manner 
of the typical leading lady — has been known to 
remark that Miss Barbury’s beauty would not 
bear analysis, or worse yet, a contact with aqua 
^ura. Miss Phialgirl has, however, passed a 
number of years on this planet, and, it might be 
remarked, is growing cynical. 

Then there is such a thing as professional 
jealousy. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


9 


Be these things as they may, I have always 
considered Miss Barbury a very accomplished, 
charming, and otherwise thoroughly attractive 
woman. 

Arrangements for a trip up the river on the 
excursion boat “ Thespian ” was decided upon 
as a quiet and proper method of celebrating the 
day, the entire Liston Company, through the 
courtesy of the manager, who had released all 
from the terrors of a summer day matinee, to 
be included in the outing. Although it was 
midsummer, Liston’s theatre had been running 
with profit to players and manager, and though 
a holiday matinee would, no doubt, have been 
very profitable, we were given a matinee of 
our own, and it is hardly necessary to say we 
all appreciated it. 

The morning hours finally passed, although 
to me they seemed interminably long, and at 
one o’clock I was stepping on board the 
‘‘Thespian,” and — I congratuled myself — grace- 
fully assisting Miss Barbury. We were the 
first on board. This may, or may not have 
been the consummation of a concocted scheme 
of my own. 


lO 


A HOPELESS CASE 


My companion expressed some surprise at 
seeing no one around. 

“You told me,” she said, with a most 
bewitching pout, “ that you were sure we 
would be late, and I hurried purposely, suppos- 
ing, from the manner in which you spoke, the 
boat had already gone from the dock.” 

I assured her, by way of answer, that some 
delay must have been occasioned, for I was sure 
my watch was correct; and drawing forth the 
time-piece let her observe that the hands pointed 
to half past two o’clock. 

“ Then why are not the remainder of the 
company here? The boat was to have gone at 
two.” Then, in an anxious tone, “ Do you 
suppose anything has gone wrong — is it pos- 
sible they have boarded another boat ? There 
is one similar to this near the dock just below 
us, and I can see people moving about. I 
really think — ” 

Just then, a confounded clock situated — I 
never tried to discover where, chimed out with 
annoying and unnecessary loudness the hour of 
one. 

“ Why it’s but one o’clock,” exclaimed Miss 


A HOPELESS CASE 


II 


Barbury in surprise. She looked up at me in 
a distrustful, yet perfectly bewitching way, 
and observed, “You have been trifling again.” 

I guessed my watch must be in need of 
repairing and informed her how much I had 
been troubled of late by its unreliability. As a 
proof of this I cited my lateness at rehearsal on 
one occasion. 

“When was it?” she demanded. 

“ Why-er, oh, at the ‘ School for Scandal ’ — 
you remember the instance.” 

“ Indeed I do not; I do not remember that 
you were ever late at rehearsal; at which 
rehearsal of the play was it? ” 

“ Well, now-er-why the first, to be sure.” 

“The first! Now I am sure you were not, for 
I well remember I was the first one on the stage 
that afternoon and was — was waiting for you ; 
you came in with Brown, I remember and ” 

“Did you see that kite over the way there — 
ah,” as she looked eagerly toward the building 
at which I had pointed, “ what a pity ! it has 
fallen.” 

“ Was it a large one?” 

“ Yes, quite,” I replied, relieved to find the 


12 


A HOPELESS CASE 


deviation successful. I might have asked w’hy 
she took such great interest in the time I 
attended the rehearsals, but somehow I had not 
the courage. 

Ever since the first woman “ set the fashion ” 
for curiosity, it has remained one of the most 
extensively cultivated ingredients of their 
natures; and not only of theirs, but the natures 
of their sexual opposites. Curiosity, in man, 
finds vent in seeing if possible (and few things 
are impossible to the curious) the instrument of 
curiosity itself. With women it is much the 
same — added with an eagerness to question. 
The laborer and railway prince jostle elbows to 
observe the street fakir; the factory girl turns 
to catch a glimpse of the popular actress just as 
does the daughter of the rich senator. We all 
read the circus poster with avidity and ask our- 
selves if the runaway horses dashing along the 
street will eventually harm themselves. We 
all pray we may never become the victims of a 
railway wreck, yet wonder what our sensations 
would really be, did we fall through a bridge! 

We walked to the upper deck and seated 
ourselves on a bench at one side, she gazing 


A HOPELESS CASE 


13 


retrospectively at the water, while I — well, I 
fancied I detected a pin out of place in her hair 
and began looking intently at that, then at her 
cheeks, which I observed, never seemed 
healthier or browner. We all admire inno- 
cence and honesty — perhaps because both are 
becoming so rare. The more steepened we get 
in our false pride, the more kindly do we look 
down, when unobserved, and kiss the trusting 
childish face uplifted to ours and sigh and 
wonder, and sigh again as we think how short- 
lived purity really is. 

She finally glanced up, our eyes met and we 
both suddenly became very interested in the 
horizon. 

“ I think the afternoon will be splendid,” 
she volunteered. 

‘‘Yes,” I returned. 

Quiet reigned for five minutes, during which 
we inspected the water. Then, somehow, we 
both happened to glance up at the same time 
and looked straight into each other’s eyes. 

It was very embarassing. 

We then analyzed the wooden flooring of 
the deck as minutely as possible. 


14 A HOPELESS CASE 

“ Let US go to the other side, ” I suggested as 
we accidently encountered eyes for the third 
time, “ where we may be more in the shade.” 

For it so happened we had been sitting direct- 
ly in the heat of the sun, yet, neither of us com- 
plained ! 

We arose and crossed the deck; she first, I 
following and noticing how neatly her brown 
skirt, constructed of some soft material, fell in 
graceful folds from her trim waist, and glancing, 
carelessly of course, at her brown hair, which 
tossed about her shoulders in a manner both 
picturesque and delightful. 

There is no woman, in my opinion, who can 
dress as well, as cheaply and can look as thor- 
oughly bewitching as can the average actress 
attired for the street, or bent, as was Miss Bar- 
bury, on a mission of pleasure. Actresses seem, 
as a rule, to have a better knowledge of “ how 
to look well ” than the remainder of woman 
kind. I think every unprejudiced person who 
has taken any especial note of woman’s costume 
will agree with me in this. 

We had just seated ourselves when we heard 
a rush of many feet on the deck below, a hum 


A HOPELESS CASE 


^5 


of voices, a stamping of feet on the stairs and 
presently Miss Phialgirly accompanied by that 
important person, the manager of the Liston 
theatre, followed by the remaining members of 
the Liston stock company made their appear- 
ance. They were all there, even to the call 
boy and the fourth assistant of the property 
man. 

Some people can be disgustingly disagreeable 
when they desire, and on this occasion Miss 
Phialgirl evidently decided to be so. 

“ Quite a happy pair,” she observed, accom- 
panying her remarks with a stage laugh trumped 
up for this occasion only, ‘‘ sorry to interrupt 
what must have been an interesting historic 
amoureuseP 

This was certainly embarassing and when 
accompanied by a laughing chorus of gibbering 
idiots, made all the more so. 

‘‘ Don’t interrupt the dears,” called out 
Slaggers, who was in the rear ranks (Slugger’s 
humor is vile). Cue for chorus of idiots. 

About the most abominable person on the 
face of the earth is the man who was never 
possessed of the energy to be successful in love 


l6 A HOPELESS CASE 

or anything else, and grumbles at every other 
man’s good fortune. This sort of being will be 
found everywhere — at the Trevi fountain and 
among the fishing smacks of Cape Cod; in 
Siam and the South Sea islands. If you make 
a fortunate business turn he growls and remarks 
that you have no right making money. If you 
scribble an unpretentious book and the preten- 
tious public are fools enough to purchase it, he 
will walk twenty blocks to volunteer his opin- 
ion of the literary offspring. If you control a 
newspaper and give the world something to 
think over in an article from your pen, he will 
ask, sneeringly, why people make all this fuss 
over something a schoolboy might easily do. 
If he growls his way into heaven, it’s dimes to 
dollars he’ll complain because it wasn’t the 
other place. This is the person who could see 
nothing very wonderful in Alexander weeping 
for more worlds to conquer — hadn’t he heard 
of children crying for the moon, and where 
was the difference? 

Weskitt, our leading heavy, came obligingly 
to the rescue just as the chorus had reached 
‘‘ high C” by slipping down on the deck. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


17 


which had been freshly waxed that morning. 
He presented a ludicrous figure as he sat there, 
his eyes fairly protruding and his short legs 
thumping the wooden boards vigorously. His 
efforts to arise were very laughable, he joining 
in the laughter as heartily as those around him, 
motioning away any one who offered to assist 
him, saying he preferred to ‘‘ speak his own 
lines” and that this was a practical way of 
teaching one to be easy at the “ business.” Mr. 
Weskitt finally succeeded in getting on his feet 
and both ordeals were over. 

After this, we amused ourselves walking 
about the deck, commenting on the weather, the 
water, the boat, and other unimportant and 
trivial things until the captain’s voice was 
heard calling out the regulation orders for all 
to get on board — seemingly an unnecessary pre- 
caution since all who had intended to go were 
evidently on board and there was no one around 
the docks. 

Miss Barbury and I strolled to the lower 
deck and were interestingly watching the prep- 
arations for putting off. The plank had just 
been raised and the whistle given a warning 


l8 A HOPELESS CASE 

“toot,” when I observed a gentleman, carrying 
in one hand an umbrella and in the other a 
small lunch basket, running toward the dock. 
He gestured wildly, now with his basket and 
again with his umbrella, his arms working in a 
manner similar to a two-sailed wind-mill. 

“ Wait,” he shouted. 

Just as he came within a short distance of 
the landing, he tripped and fell. The whistle 
gave a farewell scream, and the boat moved 
slowly away from the landing. By the time 
the stranger resumed an upright position and 
gathered up his umbrella and basket, the 
boat was fully twenty feet away. He rushed 
down to the edge of the landing, looked 
toward the boat in a wild manner, suddenly 
gave both umbrella and basket a fling in our 
direction, and amid cries of horror, entreaties 
and warnings, stepped on the railing which 
surrounded the wharf and jumped toward the 
boat. 

It was decidedly the most indiscreet action I 
ever witnessed. 

He fell short of the boat about fire feet, 
hitting the water with a loud splash. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


19 


Being skilled in the art of swimming, I lost 
no time in throwing off my coat and going to 
the rescue of the unfortunate man. 

Now, I would like to ask any interested 
person to calmly consider, and after doing so, 
express their opinion as to the bravery of this 
act. To be sure, I rescued a drowning man. 
Mark, however, the circumstances; I was attired 
in clothes as light as I could have worn; the 
day was intensely hot; my plunge into the 
water was thoroughly refreshing and I enjoyed 
it to the utmost; I was an expert swimmer and 
it was therefore no effort for me to do the act — 
in brief, it was the most natural thing in the 
world, to go to the rescue of this foolish person 
who had attempted to catch the boat. In addi- 
tion to this there were at least fourteen men on 
board who would have done precisely the same 
thing had I not anticipated them, (two boat- 
hands had, I may state, made ready to jump, 
one nearly over-balancing himself so eager was 
he, just as he saw me leap) and performed a deed 
which I have always most sincerely regretted. 

The stranger was just sinking when I reached 
him. Grasping the man by his shoulder I 


20 


A HOPELESS CASE 


swam with him in the direction of the “Thes- 
pian;” a rope was thrown out, and fastening 
the body of the “ rescued ” I shouted for those 
above to hoist, which they did, while I paddled 
in the water until my turn should come — and I 
must confess I enjoyed the paddling. When li 
reached the deck the first person to greet me was 
Miss Barbury, who declared, in the presence 
and hearing of the entire company, that she had 
been very anxious about me. There was an 
expression in her eyes I was pleased to observe, 
and 1 should have liked nothing better than to 
have spoken with her alone for about five min- 
utes, for I am sure a certain question I should 
have propounded during the brief interview 
would have been answered in a way I am con- 
fident would have delighted me. Being sur- 
rounded by members of the company, who 
were confoundedly free with their encomiums of 
praise, I could not do so however, and so, thank- 
ing her warmly for her expression of regard, I 
hurried toward the cabin to obtain a change of 
clothing. Near the door of that room I came 
in contact with the person I rescued, and al- 
though I am no close student of human nature 


A HOPELESS CASE 


21 


and scarcely ever “ analyze ” those with whom 
I come in contact, I was prompted to take a 
hasty inventory of this man. He was of medium 
build, stooped considerably, had a cleanly- 
shaven, sharply defined face, eyes of a blackish- 
green shade and an abundant growth of reddish- 
brown hair, shockingly disarranged by the 
water. He was attired in loose garments — 
evidently a cast-off suit of one of the boat- 
hands — which fitted him but ill indeed. He 
was, altogether, the most odd-looking man 
I ever beheld. The moment this freak of 
human nature saw me he placed his large bony 
hands on my shoulders and looking at me 
with his little greenish eyes, exclaimed with 
enthusiasm. 

Hero, noble young man, how can I ever 
feel that I have recompensed you for your val- 
iant act in saving my life? For sacrificing your 
interests to save me from the terror of drown- 
ing?” 

‘‘ My dear fellow,” I said, “ it’s of no conse- 
quence — ” 

“ Ah, my heroic young person, you are very 
much in the wrong when you consider it in that 


22 


A HOPELESS CASE 


way. You underestimate your glorious deed. 
Gallant, courageous, brave, chivalrous, ind — ” 

‘‘ I feel greatly flattered at the praise you be- 
stow,” I interrupted, ‘‘ but would you mind dis- 
continuing any further remarks until I can 
procure a change of clothing? I am dripping 
wet, and since I see you have been fortunate to 
find dry palliment, will you not permit me to do 
the same?” 

“Ah, chivalrous man, you do not realize how 
I appreciate your noble self-sacrifice — but I will 
allow you to do as you desire. You should be 
clothed in gold, with ornaments of pearls and dia- 
m onds. My card — my card , here is my card — take 
it, I regret it is nothing more valuable but it is 
all I have — I lost my lunch basket in the river.” 

I laughed outright at this, judging I should 
much prefer the card to the lunch basket. 

“ Ah, you laugh, my hero; did you but know 
what that basket contained you would not thus 
make sport.” 

“ I am sorry I have offended you and regret 
that you have lost anything valuable,” I hast- 
ened to say. Misfortune is a very laughable 
thing to all — but those it overtakes. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


23 


‘‘Sandwiches and bottled cider, of which I 
am passionately fond — both are gone, but then 
my life is spared.” 

I turned abruptly and entered the cabin, 
knowing I should again offend him by laughing 
did I longer remain. I changed the clothing I 
had so proudly attired myself in early that morn- 
ing, for a suit the captain kindly accommodated 
me with and then started deckward. As I 
opened the door of the cabin I bethought me 
of the card, and knowing the enthusiastic 
stranger would thereafter desire to be addressed 
by name should I meet him — which I devout- 
ly hoped I should not — I took the precaution 
to glance at the pasteboard. I read: 

Justin Sigismund Kohler, 

America and Elsewhere. 

The last inscription seemed rather peculiar 
and I hurried to the deck to find Miss Bar- 
bury, wondering what business Mr. Kohler 
could be engaged in that induced him to have 
his cards written, “ America and Elsewhere.” 


II. 


The voyage up the river was made a perfect 
agony as long as Kohler remained on the boat. 
It became ineffably sickening to hear the man 
laud me so, for after a time he became a bore 
and finally an unbearable nuisance. I was 
“ hero-ed ” until I began wishing myself in a 
hundred of other places rather than on board the 
‘‘ Thespian.” I could have stepped deliberately 
up to Kohler and knocked him down; once I 
became imbued of the idea of searching him 
out, — reversing the order of affairs for once — 
luring him to the vessel’s side and throwing him 
overboard. Many other devices for disposing 
of him came to mind, but they were set aside 
upon his volunteering the information, after hav- 
ing “ stumbled across ” me for the twenty-sixth 
time, that he intended to disembark at a small 
village three miles further on up the river. 
This announcement probably saved his life; he 
would have been strangled had I learned he in- 
tended to go the entire distance and then return. 

24 


A HOPEI.ESS CASE 


25 


I realized in the midst of my good fortune at 
so getting rid of my detested acquaintance, that 
before bidding me an au revoir^ he would desire 
to consume fully half an hour’s time in inform- 
ing me of my possession of a brave heart and 
dwelling upon my heroic action in rescuing him 
from a watery sepulchre. Therefore, I deter- 
mined to avoid this interesting and dramatic 
event if there was any possibility whatever of 
my doing so. How was it to be managed ? 
Pondering for some minutes, and finally coming 
to no definite conclusion, I confided in Miss 
Barbury. 

“ You must conceal yourself in some way,” 
she said decisively; continued ‘‘stumblings” 
induced her to dislike the subject of our con- 
versation fully as much as I. 

“ Where ? ” was my question. I had con- 
ceived this idea before questioning her and after 
some consideration given it up as impracticable. 
The boat was a queerly constructed affair much 
different from those I had before observed. It 
was strictly an excursion steamer, evidently not 
designed for an all night cruise, there being no 
sleeping apartments whatever. There were, to 


26 


A HOPELESS CASE 


be sure, two decks, an upper and a low’er, but 
no place of concealment was observable on 
either; the upper was but a small affair, in real- 
ity a mere platform, smooth as glass, with a few 
chairs placed upon it, and the lower, although 
much larger, was equally as unfortunate as re- 
garded hiding places. 

“ Can you not crawl under the seats surround- 
ing the lower decks ? ” she questioned. 

“ No; you can see they are not draped.” They 
were little better than benches in truth. 

“ The engine room ? ” 

“ No place there — except within the boiler 
and that would be too decidedly tropical.” 

The outlook was a gloomy one indeed. 

A pause. I saw Kohler approaching, smil- 
ing as ever and pretending to be engrossed with 
a portion of the vaulted heavens. I piloted my 
companion to the opposite side of the deck where 
we seated ourselves. Fortunately Kohler be- 
came involved in a slight dispute with the cap- 
tain regarding the landing place and did not at 
once overtake us. The escape was a narrow one. 

“How will the cabin do?” asked Miss Bar- 
bury at last. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


27 


This was a compartment about as large as a 
smoking room in a Pullman vestibule. It con- 
tained a small table, a narrow sofa, one chair 
and a wardrobe. I enumerated the furniture 
and reminded my companion there was little 
space in which to conceal oneself. 

‘‘You could get under the table and pull the 
cloth covering down, or you could crawl under 
the lounge, or, better still, hide in the wardrobe.” 

The last suggestion seemed best, and we 
went to the cabin to see what facilities for hid- 
ing the wardrobe afforded. They were few — 
none, to be precise. A man couldn’t live in the 
narrow place ten minutes, and Kohler would be 
on hand with a farewell address half an hour 
before he landed, A suit of clothes would per- 
sent a sorry appearance after being placed in 
the sarcastically named cabinet, and just what 
figure a human being would cut, I did not like 
to consider. Therefore this project had to be 
abandoned. And, after all, I considered it 
would be best not to attempt concealment. If 
Kohler desired to see me and bid me farewell 
before he departed from the boat, he would 
undoubtedly, detective like, “ferret me out” 


28 


A HOPELESS CASE 


and do so. Yet, I thought, the trial would be a 
tedious one, and I had learned to so thoroughly 
abhor the man that I became actually afraid to 
trust myself with him. No, I decided after 
reflection, I would not risk it. 

I could not deflne my hatred for this man — 
for hatred it had grown, and a hatred more bit- 
ter than I ever conceived before. It seemed in- 
stinctive, yet I knew not why. We have all ex- 
perienced this, and likes and dislikes are (as was 
the intuition of the bad boy to steal), “ born in 
us;” in some more strongly than in others. 
Many learn to control it; some are of such a 
temperament as to make control impossible. 

I glanced at my watch and discovered it was 
nearly two o’clock. In thirty minutes Kohler 
would depart from the boat. I was in a state 
of total despair. Miss Barbury sat on the min- 
iature article of furniture ironically styled the 
lounge, and I sat opposite to her on a chair. 
Both maintained a gloomy silence, our minds 
dwelling on the one puzzling question, how I 
was to escape an irksome farewell. Suddenly 
a voice was heard above the din on the upper 
deck. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


29 


life, my preserver, my hero; where is 
he, that I may once more look upon his features, 
his classic profile, ere I depart. Ah ! h — ” 

I shut out the detested sound by closing the 
cabin door. 

“ Great heaven ! what shall I do ? ” was my 
despairing question. Miss Barbury shook her 
head. A short pause, and then footsteps were 
heard near the top of the short flight of stairs 
leading down to the cabin door. They were 
Kohler’s. He was too near for me to hope 
for escape now, and I realized I would be 
obliged to see it through. Then the steps came 
nearer — were plainly audible coming down the 
stairs. I turned the key in the door, locking it 
noiselessly. Suddenly Marion arose. Her 
eyes were bright, and there was a determined 
look in them as she went toward the door. 

‘‘ Don’t open it — for heaven’s sake don’t open 
it! ” I gasped. 

‘‘ I do not intend to; leave this matter to me,” 
she whispered. “ I have thought of something. 
It may not be effective, but I most earnestly 
hope it will, for your sake.” 

F or my sake ! I hoped so too — more earnestly. 


30 


A HOPELESS CASE 


There came a slight knock at the door; then 
a pause; then a heavier knock. Then there 
were intervals of knocks and pauses for several 
minutes. Finally Miss Barbury asked: 

“ Who is there? ” 

“It is I — Kohler — I wish to see my pre- 
server — my hero.” 

“ There are two gentlemen here (heaven for- 
gave her for that lie, I am sure), Mr. Marl ton 
and — ” 

“It is he. Ah, my dear young lady, he is the — ” 

“Hush!” commanded Miss Barbury, “you 
must be calm; he is subject to fits and has 
just recovered from one; they are the outcome 
of his contact with water. A physician is 
working over him now; he is very weak; if 
you have any regard for him whatever I beg 
you to go away. He must not be excited. 
Should he hear your voice he would at once 
desire to see you, to talk with you, and a con- 
versation with anyone, no matter how brief, 
would quite undo him.” 

“ Can I not for one instant look upon the feat- 
ures of my preserver? I must shortly depart; 
I beseech you let me not thus leave him.” 


A HOPELESS CASE 


3 * 


‘‘You cannot possibly . talk with him,” re- 
sponded this modern Sapphira, the physician 
has just succeeded in quieting him ; he is sleeping 
and must not be disturbed.” 

Ah, this is sad; but fair maid, I will not at- 
tempt to enter, Adieu^ adieu — no not adieu 
but aurevoir^ my hero, au revoir^'^ and so saying^ 
he tiptoed up the stairs. 

‘‘ It was very wrong I know,” said Miss Bar- 
bury as she turned from the door, “ but it was 
the only way.” 

I think under the circumstances, the record- 
ing angel will let this pass,” I remarked laugh- 
ingly. 

‘‘I sincerely hope so,” was the reply. She 
went to the door and opened it cautiously as 
though fearing Kohler was on the outside. 
Seeing the coast clear, she said : 

‘‘ I think I will go up now — he will land in 
a little while; you remain here and I will inform 
the company of the ruse so they will not be 
alarmed at any report that man may make. 
‘‘ Then,” and she hesitated, ‘‘ there might be 
gossip you know.” 

To be sure, great embarrasment might ensue 


32 


A HOPELESS CASE 


should any one — especially one inclined to 
gossip — find us together in the cabin. Scandal 
is a monster to be avoided in all professions, 
especially the dramatic, where it has defiled 
more pure and true characters, than in any 
other. God help an honest woman, be she 
ever so noble as a woman and actress, when 
the scandal mongers of the dramatic profession 
attack her! 

Miss Barbury walked upstairs and I closed 
the door, turning the key in the lock. 

I passed some minutes reading a newspaper 
I was fortunate enough to discover in the cabin 
— or rather, attempting to read it, for I was too 
decidedly nervous to become interested in the 
contents. Finally the boat seemed to slacken 
in speed and finally stopped altogether. Then 
I knew the time for Kohler’s departure had 
at last arrived. I heard a noise outside the 
cabin door and recognized Kohler’s and Miss 
Barbury’s voices raised in dispute. Instinc- 
tively I rushed to the door to assure myself it 
was locked. 

My dear young lady I must see him before 

I go-” 


A HOPELESS CASE 


33 


^‘Indeed you cannot; I have already told you 
of his ill condition. He is actually so wreak he 
can hardly talk and an interviews with you 
would end his life.” 

The recording angel could bring nothing to 
bear against this last remark, truly. 

Kohler still persisting however, walked stum- 
blingly down the stairs and knocked at the cabin 
door. As he did so the voice of the captain 
was heard. 

If you wish to land sir, you will do well to 
hurry — we cannot possibly wait longer.” 

Kohler sighed — so deeply it was plainly 
audible to me, and then I heard the footsteps 
retreating up the stairs. A sound of creaking 
pulleys, a heavy fall, then a voice which I rec- 
ognized as Kohler’s bidding an adieu^ and the 
boat moved on. I unlocked the door and walked 
to the upper deck where I encountered the com- 
pany lunching. Miss Barbury had informed 
them of the ruse and they entered into the mat- 
ter heartily, doing much to keep Kohler away 
from the cabin by alluding to the “ poor fellow” 
and averring that the water did it.” I seated 
myself among the rest and was liberally helped 


34 


A HOPELESS CASE 


to the tempting viands that assist in making an 
out-of-door bill of fare delicious, while we all 
proceeded to discuss the new acquaintance of 
mine. It must be chronicled to our discredit — 
if discredit it was — that Kohler’s shortcomings 
were dealt with in no very favorable terms by 
the little band, and several allusions to his gen- 
eral make-up called forth such merriment that I 
soon found I had drowned the unpleasantness 
of the afternoon in the discussion of the very 
instrument of that unpleasantness. If we all were 
acquainted with what transpired behind our 
backs, concerning ourselves, what a difference it 
would make among the people of earth ! We 
should need no churches, no ministers. Even 
the old women gossips would learn to bridle 
their tongues and every human boat would have 
smooth sailing. People would have to think 
then and confine their thoughts inward. What 
an immense amount of brain work some would 
have — after they got used to it; and before 
they did become accustomed, how our ears 
would I'ing ! 

After luncheon we separated, strolling about 
the deck in couples. Miss Barbury, of course. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


35 


accompanying me. Never did time pass so pleas- 
antly as on that summer afternoon. W e landed 
at a delightfully rural out-of-the-way place, a 
portion of an estate that had evidently seen its 
best days many years before. To the little 
company of actors, the outing was a delightful 
recreation. A matinee, in truth, they seldom 
enjoyed ; the scene comes over me as in a dream, 
the sweet scented woods, the supreme quietness 
o’er everything, enhanced by the drowsy hum 
of the bees and the ripple of the brook. It was 
a perfect day, yet, with me, something was 
wanting —something to enter my life. 

We are always waiting, and wanting, and 
wondering. We look on the imperial, cold-blue 
mountains and wonder what is on the other side; 
it seems the world must be brighter there, that 
life must be happier. And when the sun rises 
far away from nature’s massive upheavals and 
the morning beams touch the snow-capped 
peaks, the jutting, uneven crags, the sunshine 
seems to slant down into a valley of perpetual 
glory, where worry and trouble are unknown 
components. Yet we usually make the world 
what it is — gloomy, dreadful and dreary, like 


3 ^ 


A HOPELESS CASE 


the storm among the pines, or bright, glad and 
beaming, like the sun lighting a glittering caval- 
cade. 

It was with reluctance we crossed the plank 
on to the steamer one hour later — the time had 
passed so pleasantly, the world had seemed so 
full of love, of harmony and peace. The jour- 
ney down the river was a quiet one, the spell of 
the midsummer afternoon remaining upon us. 
Miss Barbury sat at one side of the boat, gazing 
thoughtfully at the water for nearly all the way ; 
I was near her, yet we spoke but little. Of 
what did she think? Of what did I? It was 
an opportune moment, for love was at our side. 

No moralist or ethnologist will ever properly 
solve this riddle of love; Love, roguish, mis- 
chievous Love, that comes upon us like a merry 
brigand on the mountain highway and demands 
our hearts ere we pass on. Love that reddens 
the cheeks of our youngsters, brightens the eyes 
and causes the blood to tingle in the veins of 
our youths and maidens, our grand ams and 
grandsires. Love, the old, old fashioned love 
that makes life worth living after all. 


Ill 


The signal bell for the rising of the curtain at 
Liston’s theatre sounded half an hour later than 
usual that evening. The audience was composed 
of good-natured people, however, who waited 
patiently through the delay and expressed no 
dissatisfaction. The “ bill” for the evening was 
Gilbert’s ever delightful ‘‘ Broken Hearts,” a 
singularly touching and pathetic drama, and one 
of absorbing interest. But six members of the 
large stock company were in the cast, but those, 
nevertheless, not identified with the production, 
viewed the play from the wings, with some in- 
terest, among them Miss Barbury. I was the 
Mousta of the evening — a thankless part to 
many, but to me, one I appreciated in everyway 
and in which I had always desired to appear. 
At the rise of the curtain, Mousta, it may be 
remembered by those who have read, or better 
still, been fortunate enough to witness this poetic 
37 


38 A HOPELESS CASE 

play, is reading a book of charms which he dis- 
covered in an empty boat, near the shore of the 
“ Isle of Broken Hearts.” I was standing in the 
wings, conversing with Miss Def nor, the actress 
who was to appear as Lady Vivian, when the 
curtain bell sounded. Obeying the j^lay-book 
directions, I proceeded to the center of the stage 
and when the curtain rose, Mousta, a deformed, 
ill-favored dwarf, hump-backed and one-eyed, 
was discovered, seated near a fountain, reading 
a small black letter volume.” There was a 
rustle of admiration and applause as the curtain 
swung up, revealing a scene that was indeed a 
marvel of the scenic art. In these days of the 
Nineteenth century, the scene painter has al- 
most as conspicuous a place in the world of the 
theatre as the actor himself. There has been a 
cry raised of late, and in America in ^larticular, 
of too little show of acting and too great a show 
of scenery. This, in many instances, is only too 
true — and being true, most deplorable, yet I do 
not think the evil as widespread as some garru- 
lous critics would make it out. Advances in the 
art of scene painting have been very rapid of 
late years, yet I cannot believe the art of acting 


A HOPELESS CASE 


39 


has suffered to any great extent by this— it has, 
rather, been assisted. The decline of the drama 
is not due to the advance in scenic matters, — a 
more glaring evil than that is drawing the drama 
down; one I do not intend to discuss. Is there 
anything more pleasing than a good drama, well 
acted, in which the scenic accessories assist in 
making up a picture that is real, that glows 
with life, presenting to the auditors the play 
with its nearest approach to realism — almost 
realism itself ? 

I delivered my opening lines with ease, and 
was rapidly approaching the words forming 
the cue for Vavir’s entrance, when, glancing up 
from the book I gazed for a moment at the 
audience, noticing for the first time that the 
theatre was crowded in every part. The glance 
was not of a second’s duration — as quick as the 
eye could rise and fall — yet, when I again 
looked at the book I felt somehow I was a 
changed being. How, I could not at once say. 
A shock of the most intense pain passed through 
me with the rapidity of lightning. My mind 
became confused and I seemed altogether 
another being. I attempted to cry out, but 


40 


A HOPELESS CASE 


could not make a sound and then I discovered I 
was repeating my lines as though they were 
words I would most naturally utter. I glanced 
around. The landscape was tropical and of the 
most enchanting beauty. The audience had 
vanished. I was on an island, eagerly devour- 
ing the contents of a book which read like 
music to me. I realized that of all. on this fair 
spot, the only blemish was hump-backed, ill- 
favored me. The book I held told me of 
strange secrets; how to make the crooked 
straight, transform old to young, heal the lame, 
restore lost sight — hundreds of marvelous 
things. I realized I was madly in love with 
one I could never, by reason of my deformed 
and repellant state, hope to win. This book 
taught me to appear pleasing to her eye. The 
finding of it made me about mad with ecstacy. 
Through some unaccountable process I had 
been transformed into the very character I was 
to interpret, with the same passions, the same 
thoughts, the same actions of the unsightly 
Mousta. * * * I cannot dwell upon this 

wonderful and mysterious transformation of 
the night. It was something so unreal, so inex- 


A HOPELESS CASE 


41 


plicable that I cannot trust myself to do so. 
When the last words of the beautiful Hilda — 
a woman of surpassing loveliness, whom I, 
as my second self, loved with a despair most 
pitiful — were spoken at the conclusion of the 
first act, the torturous pain again passed through 
my body and I was lying in the center of the 
stage surrounded by a number of people who 
told me I had fainted; the painted scenes, the 
flickering lights, the immense canvas drop- 
curtain — all were there. Anxious faces looked 
into mine; my companions said he worked too 
hard, but it was wonderfully done.” I had 
evidently awakened from a dream. From the 
auditorium came sounds, the semblance of 
which I have never since heard in a theatre. It 
was applause — something I was entirely fa- 
miliar with, but not as it was given that night. 
It was as though the gods of thunder had de- 
scended upon earth. Deafening shouts for 
“ Mousta ” were heard, and, dazed as though 
waking from sleep, and scarcely understanding 
the turmoil, I walked before the curtain. The 
thunderous applause increased as I came in view 
of the audience. Cheers seemed to shake the 


42 


A HOPELESS CASE 


very foundation of the theatre; hats, handker- 
chiefs, fans, were waved wildly in the air. 
Was ever a stage villain accorded such recog- 
nition — a recognition only an intelligent audi- 
ence can give? I retired but was again called 
forth — again and again did the wild throng 
demand my presence. The greatest success of 
my life had been made, a triumph seldom 
equaled. 

When I was at length permitted to retire, 
and came upon my comrades behind the scenes, 
congratulations were thrust upon me by every 
member of the company. It was wonderful, 
they all avowed, and before I gained the seclu- 
sion of my dressing-room. Manager Liston had 
informed me of an advance in salary. When I 
had at last been permitted to reach my dressing- 
room I seated myself upon one of my wardrobe 
trunks and thought over my evening’s success, 
for truly I had made a success, one that was 
probably never equaled; but at what cost? 
how was it brought about? After all had I 
made this seemingly unparalleled attainment? 
Was it study — close, arduous, tedious study on 
my part? No, it could not have been. How- 


A HOPELESS CASE 


43 


ever one might absorb oneself in the character 
represented, no one could be transformed so 
completely as I was, for my desires, my life 
itself during that terrible act, was as Mousta’s 
would have been. I had rejoiced as an original 
Mousta would have rejoiced. I had suffered as 
he doubtless would have suffered, longed as he 
would have longed, with a longing that was 
terrible in its pitifulness, for the fulfillment of 
that which I knew could never be — the be- 
stowment of the love of the fairest creature 
ever conceived, on the most mis-shapen animal 
the imagination can conjure up. 

I dreaded the sound of the manager’s bell and 
when I heard it ring, stumbled down the steps 
of the dressing-room and blundered wildly into 
the wings with a despair no one can fully real- 
ize. To the stage hands, and such members of 
the company as were congregated, my de- 
meanor must have seemed rather peculiar. I 
experienced no doubt that I would be obliged 
to go through all my agonies again, during the 
coming act. It was indelibly, distinctly im- 
pressed upon me. I took my proper position in 
the wings and waited with an indescribable 


44 


A HOPELESS CASE 


feeling for the rise of the curtain. When the 
bell sounded and the enormous painted canvass 
creaked as it slid slowly up, my heart thumped 
wildly and my tongue clove to the roof of 
my mouth as though frozen. I wanted to 
turn and run, to cry out, to shriek, I was as 
a statue. Miss Barbury stood beside me. She 
had been talking with animation since my re- 
return from the dressing-room, but I had not 
heeded her. 

“What is the matter?” she whispered, and 
then, noticing the stage had been kept waiting, 
she, with a promptness born of stage experience, 
pushed me into view of the audience. 

“ Stage frightened, this late in your career — 
your success is turning your head,” I heard her 
say, laughingly, as I stumbled toward the center 
of the stage. The applause greeting me was 
deafening and it was several minutes before I 
could proceed. I uttered my first line, “ I left 
him sleeping soundly in my hut,” slowly and 
indistinctly. As I started upon my second the 
pain I had been momentarily dreading and ex- 
pecting shot through me. The landscape 
assumed more substantial and real proportions as 


A HOPELESS CASE 


45 


before. The audience disappeared. Thoughts 
foreign to my nature flashed into my brain. I 
was alone. I was my other self. 

When I regained consciousness — for I may 
truly say I was unconscious — the plaudits of 
the audience again rang in my ears, and, as be- 
fore, I felt instinctively they were intended for 
me. The great curtain was pushed aside, and 
amid the most enthusiastic shouts I walked to 
the front. Hundreds of faces were turned to- 
ward me, and looking across the huge living 
sea, as it seemed, my eyes rested for a moment 
upon one face. The applause seemed hushed. 
I could not hear it, so intense was my interest 
centered in that face, for I recognized features 
I can never forget. Through the broad audi- 
torium — so broad one would think no face 
could be distinguished — I looked straight into 
the eyes of my demonstrative friend, Kohler. 
That look convinced me that the secret of my 
success of the evening was due to him, how I 
could not explain, but the feeling that it was 
through his influence the strange events which 
have been narrated, occurred, was so strong 
upon me I at once believed the man had some 


46 


A HOPELESS CASE 


mysterious control over me which I could not 
hope to overcome. I roused myself sufficiently 
to bow myself from view and when again safely 
behind the scenes conceived a most violent de- 
sire to be rid of this man, this acquaintance of 
a day that had been one of the hapjoiest during 
my existence. Another metamorphosis such as 
that which had occurred would, I believed, 
make me insane. I could not endure the pain, 
the intense love longing — a longing that would 
be intensified in the last act of this wonderful 
drama, since Mousta, as the lines read, would 
undergo his most loathsome tortures of the 
heart, and suffer humiliation at the hands of 
one he could not but look upon as an enemy. 
How could I now proceed to have Kohler in- 
duced to leave the house? I could most cer- 
tainly complain to Manager Liston, who would 
willingly request him to depart. I could not, 
however, give the worthy Mr. L. a plausible 
reason for my wishing to have him remove the 
man, nor, after consideration, would it be an 
advisable thing to do after all, Kohler, with his 
damnable art of — what I could not say — 
would in all probability wreak vengeance on 


A HOPELESS CASE 


47 


me in some other manner. While pondering 
thus, the ^prompt bell rang. Despairingly I 
realized the tortures felt before would shortly 
be repeated, and rushed wildly down to the 
wings. The play was already proceeding, and 
I idly watched the players as they, through 
God’s blessing, were permitted to only assume 
the characters they represented, while I, select- 
ed for some unknown reason, would be trans- 
formed to mine and made to suffer with it. 
The cue for entrance came, and, prepared for the 
change before experienced, I, according to stage 
directions, stole on from 1. u. e.” and started 
with my lines, waiting, momentarily ex^Decting 
the change to occur. I was astonished to find I 
had proceeded at some length and yet the hor- 
rible metamorphosis had not taken place. I grew 
bolder, and, with an effort, looked up and, 
glancing across the theater, saw the seat Koh- 
ler had occupied now completely filled by a 
gentleman of extremely large proportions, 
whose features I could not distinguish. Kohler 
had gone then ! Realizing this, my heart 
thumped as wildly with joy as it had a few 
hours before thumped with fear, and when it 


48 


A HOPELESS CASE 


came my cue to reply to my stage companion, 
I delivered my lines in so joyful a tone that he 
and every person standing in the wings, all of 
whom had been watching me admiringly, start- 
ed in complete surprise. 

“Your voice has changed!” my colleague 
almost gasped, “ have you lost the proper 
tone ? ” 

“No; thank God I have gained it,” I replied 
fervently in a whisper completely audible to 
those on the stage and in the wings. All ex- 
changed looks of surprise, I noted as I pro- 
ceeded. In this last act I had not so much to do 
as in the previous two, and when the time for 
my final exit came, far from “ creeping sadly 
off” when my “miserable life” had been spared, 
I almost hopped to the side of the stage and 
made my exit amid open expressions of horror 
from my companions and the plaudits of the 
audience, who, although the most indifferent 
could not but have noticed the change, did not 
forget my former triumph and gave me a 
pleasant little encore. 

Of course all my companions were “ so 
sorry I had brought such a cold on myself.” 


A HOPELESS CASE 


49 


My exertions during the first two acts must 
have been very fatiguing, Mrs. Thompson, the 
first old lady, thought; and then that wonderful 
voice; how could one assume it, she would like 
to know, and not become hoarse? The whole 
performance was wonderful, wonderful! She 
had watched it from the wings, having nothing 
else to do, and thought it was charming — 
thrilling. She would wish to make just one 
such triumph and die. She had known of but 
one like hit before, and that was when poor 
dear Thompson played “ Richard ” one night 
during the days of the strictly legitimate; there 
were’nt one hundred people in the house on the 
night of Thompson’s remarkable hit, but they 
were that enthusiastic they actually thronged 
on the stage after the death scene and persisted 
in shaking hands with him. He also was hoarse 
after the production. Ah, those were the days 
of the drama, purely the palmy days; the stage 
could never hope to see them again. 

Leaving the conversant old lady rather 
abruptly I rushed to my dressing room and 
prepared to disrobe. Scarcely had I gotten 
within its sacred precincts when a heavy knock 


50 


A HOPELESS CASE 


sounded on my door. Upon answering it, I was 
confronted by a blue-coated messenger boy who 
handed me a note. It was written upon an offi- 
cial looking sheet of paper, and was from his 
excellency, the governor of the state! His ex- 
cellency had witnessed my “wonderful illustra- 
tion of the powers of dramatic art” and was 
immensely pleased. Never, he could say, in 
the course of his life had he beheld such a won- 
derful performance. He was charmed, entranced, 
even terrified, so realistic was the impersonation. 
And would Mr. Marlton be kind enough to join 
his excellency in an impromptu supper-party 
at the Cosmopolitan restaurant directly he 
could? In course of half an hour, say? If Mr. 
Marlton only would do so, he would be doing 
what his excellency could only regard as one of 
the greatest of personal favors. At any other 
time, I could have accepted such an invitation 
graciously, and indeed, with a feeling of pride. 
This considering I had made my success legitima- 
tely. That night, I felt I had not done so. It was 
greatness thrust upon me indeed, but not in a 
way to inspire hope for further successes. 

“ Any answer, sir?” 


A HOPELESS CASE 


5 


Ah, the messenger* Acting hastily — perhaps 
too hastily, I seated myself and scribbled an 
answer, pleading illness and stating I would 
beonly too happy to meet his excellency on 
any other evening. I most sincerely regretted 
my inability to be in attendance at the supper 
party, but would be quite pleased to sup with 
his excellency at any other time he could 
arrange. 

Dispatching the messenger with the note, I 
completed dressing and then, descending to the 
stage door, nodded a good night to the few con- 
gregated about it and started for my rooms, situa- 
ted in a large block some distance from the the- 
atre. Arriving, I found my room-mate had pre- 
ceeded me. Richmond, a tall, finely built young 
fellow, who was, excepting myself, the only 
male character in the play that evening, was 
sitting near the small centre-stand reading a 
book. Glancing up, as I entered, he threw the 
volume not he table, re-lighted his cigarette and 
lying comfortably back in his chair, interrogated : 
‘‘Your head, my dear boy, still admits of your 
wearing a hat, corresponding in size with the one 
you wore earlier in the day ?” 


52 


A HOPELESS CASE 


“ Of course it does, it always will,” was the 
quick, half angry reply. This tale of success 
was growing tiresome. 

“No need of your desiring to annihilate me, 
I was only joking.” 

“ Rather an antediluvian joke.” 

“ Yes,” he admitted, “ the hat ‘ fake ’ has seen 
its best days — but I say, honestly, my boy, you 
did handsomely ; that second act was a corker. 
Why, I was actually afraid of you — and you 
carried the thing too far, upon my soul you did; 
sitting moping about in the wings when your 
exits came, and not speaking to any one who ad- 
dressed you.” 

True, my exits. How must I have appeared 
when not speaking my lines before the audience ? 
I had no recollection of this. I longed to ask 
how I behaved, yet did not dare to question. 

“ And once,” rattled on Richmond, “ when 
I spoke to you, you gave me such a Dr. Hyde- 
like look, you scared me into one of the worst 
breaks I ever made, as I heard my cue just then 
and was about to go on. What a pile of study- 
ing you must have done; oh, you’re a lucky 
dog — but you deserve it all.” In this manner 


A HOPELESS CASE 


53 


Richmond talked for nearly half an hour, what 
questions he propounded being answered in 
monosyllabled form, with frequent insinuations 
that I was much too fatigued to talk. I had 
just performed the athletic feat of what is known 
in America as “jumping into bed” (every Amer- 
ican jumps) and was composing myself for sleep 
when Richmond, who had subsided for a short 
time, began afresh with the startling suddenness 
of Vesusius in eruption. 

“ Oh, by Jove, I nearly forgot it — here, here 
is something a gentleman left for you — it was 
the same man you pulled from the river this 
morning,” he said as he went to a small chest, 
drew therefrom a brown paper parcel and 
brought it to the bedside. 

A gift from Kohler! 

“ Let me take it,” I said wearily. 

Untying the string after some difficulty, and 
tearing away the paper, a small image, or what 
I supposed to be an image, rolled from my hands 
on the coverlet. 

“An idol, by Jove” said Richmond, taking 
it up and examining it curiously. As he did so, 
I observed the idol was a quaintly carved thing, 


54 


A HOPELESS CASE 


evidently designed for a dragon. It was four 
inches in height, I should judge, and six in 
length, made of pure white ivory, its claws, 
teeth and swirling tail of pure, glistening gold, 
its eyes of sparkling, penetrating rubies. The 
animal, demon, or whatever you will, was ex- 
quisitely carved, the lustre of the polished ivory 
shining with a dazzling brilliancy. 

“It is a beauty,” remarked Richmond, trans- 
ferring it to my hands. I looked it over, noted 
the finely executed workmanship carefully, re- 
volving in my mind what use under the sun the 
dainty thing would be to me. It must, I consid- 
ered, be but an ornament. 

Richmond finally took the image from me 
and placed on the stand beside him, resuming 
his reading after an eloquent discourse on 
Kohler’s gift. I, looking across the room at the 
idol, saw the lustrously gleaming eyes and noted 
how wonderfully they contrasted with the pure 
white skin and golden tipped claws. There 
was an irresistible attraction in the fiery orbs, 
and my persistent gaze directed at them as they 
finally seemed to change from red to green, 
green to blue and again to red, dazzled me so I 


A HOPELESS CASE 


55 


was impelled to close my eyes, then, acting on 
the impulse, a drowsy comfortness stole over 
me, and after a weak command to Richmond to 
stop reading and come to bed, I fell asleep. 


f 


IV 

The little clocif on the centre-table chimed 
twice with a musical, decisive cadence that 
reverberated throughout the room charmingly. 
I had been sleeping scarcely an hour, yet felt 
strangely refreshed; the soft, hazy light of the 
July moon shone through the open window of 
the apartment, touched lingeringly upon the 
furniture and ornaments, softly tipped the white 
china plate in the corner and tinged all with 
fanciful gold. Richmond was at my side 
sleeping peacefully, venting an occasional snore 
that indicated repose and presumably hai^piness, 
forgetful of trouble and toil, of success and 
failure on the stage of life as well as the mimic 
world he represented. For a time I lay quietly 
back on my pillows, weaving fantastic, chimer- 
ical shapes in the moon-gold light, but finally 
arose, and going to the window leaned out over 
the stony casement and looked at the city as it 
56 


A HOPELESS CASE 


57 


lay asleep, gray and quiescent. The gabled 
quaintness of the buildings never seemed so 
strikingly beautiful as now, nor the tall spires of 
the churches standing like sentinels over the 
sleeping occupants of the vast city, so com- 
manding. Nothing but roofs met the eye; on, 
on like the waves of the ocean, relieved by the 
towers of the public buildings and the steeples 
only. Along the street — our street, as Rich- 
mond and I were wont to call it — it was very 
quiet, not a person to be seen, not a noise 
heard except that low, incessant rumbling, 
always audible by night in a large city, com- 
ing from a seeming nowhere, and always 
unaccountable — a sound once heard always 
remembered. The loneliness affected me 
strangely and I was seized with a desire to stroll 
along the shadow-barred street — to walk, to 
go nowhere in particular, but to walk; walk 
and drive away a fear of impending evil rap- 
idly enveloping me. Hastily dressing, I gently 
opened and shut the door, that my colleague 
might not be wakened, walked carefully down 
the broad stair-case and let myself into the street 
through a side door which I knew was kept 


A HOPELESS CASE 


58 

unlocked. For some time I stood at the edge 
of the walk undetermined what course to 
pursue, and finally deciding to walk toward 
the East, turned my steps upward. The only 
thing of life on this particular section of the 
street, so far as I could tell, I found to be a 
policeman whom I met after having proceeded 
a block. Patrolman Willis and I were old 
acquaintances and his cheery “ hullo ” evinced 
that he was pleased to have the lonesomeness 
of his ‘‘ beat ” relieved by some one he could 
converse with, even if for a brief time only. 
He expressed no surprise at my being on the 
street at such an untimely hour and after 
exchanging the usual compliments we chatted 
for some time, finally moving on in opposite 
directions. I had scarcely proceeded two steps 
when I ran against some person. Strange I 
had not seen him! I could have sworn there 
was not a man nor woman on the street — 
excepting ourselves — when I turned from the 
officer. 

“I beg your pardon,” said I, hastily and half 
angrily. Then I looked up — it was Kohler! 

Instinctively I turned around to look for the 


A HOPELESS CASE 


59 


policeman, whom I thought could not be very far 
away, but Willis had disappeared as suddenly 
as had Kohler appeared. 

“ I am delighted to meet you — my preserver 
my hero ” — he began, effiusively, but stopped 
at an entreating ‘‘ don’t ” on my part. His sin- 
ister face bore a supercilious smile and he 
glanced down at me with his little, half -closed 
eyes in a way most revolting, and made me 
abhor the man more than ever. We walked 
along some minutes in silence until we reached 
the end of the short street. At each step my 
hatred for this man had grown more and more 
intense. I loathed him, abhorred him with all 
my soul. Yet I could not turn back, could not 
seek the seclusion of my room as I desired — 
he seemed to hold some mysterious power over 
me, impelling me to do as he wished. 

“We will turn down this street,” he 
said. We turned as he indicated. How I 
hated him! 

“ Some day I shall kill you,” said I, finally, 
my hatred growing irritating, my displeasure 
stronger. Kohler simply laughed and did not 
appear in the least alarmed at the threat al- 


6o 


A HOPELESS CASE 


though uttered in all earnestness. It was a dis- 
gusting, dry, cackling laugh and made my 
blood boil. 

“You cannot kill me,” he said, leering with 
his little gray eyes and cackling with satisfaction. 
I turned white with passion — a fury raged 
within me and I would have struck him down, 
could I have raised my arms; they hung like 
leaden weights at my sides. 

“ You have bewitched me,” I cried. 

“ Yes, bewitched you, if you desire to call it 
that. There is no necessity for shouting so — 
it will only cause unnecessary trouble; I can 
stop your vocal organs also.” We walked on 
in silence and several blocks further down 
stopped — at least Kohler stopped and I could 
not do otherwise. On the corner opposite from 
which we stood was the immense banking 
establishment of Brown & Brown, a handsome 
stone, solidly built building, doubly imposing 
by night with its richly carved, luxuriously ap- 
pointed interior, brilliantly lighted by almost 
innumerable incandescent illuminators. 

“ Light is a better safeguard against thieves 
than all the watchmen in the universe,” Mr, 


A HOPELESS CASE 


6l 


James Brown, senior member of the firm once 
remarked, and firmly believing in it, placed 
these glowing globes in all prominent portions 
of the banking institution. Mr. David Brown, 
junior member, still advocated the watchman 
theory, and, while he acknowleged his brother 
had taken a wise step, nevertheless insisted in re- 
taining “ Faithful James,’’ who had been identi- 
fied with the Browns since they were boys, play- 
ed as brothers, fought as brothers, and stuck to 
each other with a tie none could undo, even 
after their ‘‘ growing up.” Therefore the bank 
was lighted and guarded, and stood a monument 
to the Browns’ thrift, a credit to a large city 
and a terror to designing thieves and cracksman. 

Taking a large bunch of keys from his 
pocket, and selecting one in particular, Kohler 
handed them to me and said, lowly, but clearly 
and distinctly : ‘‘You will take this key, insert 
it in the lock of the front door of the bank 
across the way, enter and ” 

“ This is preposterous — I shall do nothing of 
the kind.” 

“You will,” came the firm reply and the 
man’s eyes glittered ominously. 


62 


A HOPELESS CASE 


I grew livid with fury and maddened by the 
insolent bearing of the man, attempted to jump 
towaixl him — I could have strangled him. He 
caught my hands and I became as weak as a 
child. 

‘‘You are in my power,” he said, raspingly, 
“ do as I command; I shall give you no further 
orders in person, my thoughts will hereafter 
guide you in the transaction of this business.” 
Then my mind became slightly obscured — 
clouded as when one cannot reason clearly. 

Dreamily I took the proffered keys, started 
across the street, and reaching the massive door 
of the great banking edifice, inserted the key in 
the lock, half expecting, earnestly hoping, it 
would not fit. The unshapely steel “sesame” 
to this cave of riches, snugly filled the aperture 
for which some skillful locksmith had designed 
it however, and with slight exertion on my 
part the door swung noiselessly open, but, upon 
my entrance, closed with a loud reverberating 
slam. 

“Who is there?” immediately exclaimed a 
commanding voice, and a moment later a tall, 
swarthy, muscular watchman, pistol in hand, 


A HOPELESS CASE 


63 

came from one of the inner offices of the bank. 
What answer could I make? I attempted to 
retrace my steps, but found some mysterious 
power propelled them forward, and I ad- 
vanced toward the guardian of the Browns’ 
wealth. 

« Halt!” 

It was an imperious command, and the pos- 
sessor of the weapon had a most determined 
look; it was evident he considered me an expert 
bank robber, and a remark he shortly made 
convinced me of it. 

“ Don’t come a step further. Where are 
your pals?” 

I was in a j^^inful predicament certainly. 
After a moment it occurred to me to say 
“ Kohler ” and inform the watchman he was 
across the street. I was in trouble of a most 
serious nature — would probably be taken be- 
fore some dignitary to give an account of my 
actions; there would be a great amount of sat- 
isfaction in drawing Kohler before the Court. 
Deciding to pursue this course, I attempted to 
speak, but as I did so, the watchman suddenly 
started back with a pale face, his eyes 


64 


A HOPELESS CASE 


staring horribly and his muscles twitching con- 
vulsively, then collapsing, he sank on the tile 
floor, the pistol falling at my feet. Impelled 
by some stronger will, I moved on past the 
prostrate body, through the softly carpeted 
apartments of the great financial directors 
shaded by innumerable soft - falling lights, 
through the neatly arranged rooms of the 
bookkeeper, finally running almost directly 
against the large iron door of the vault. Fur- 
ther impelled by this wonderful Will, I turned 
to the big steel combination lock, reversed it 
twice, pulled on the knob of the door, and it 
swung easily outward. ‘‘There is a box — a 
box — a box ” kept running through my brain ,■ 
I was after a box, and would know it the mo- 
ment I saw it, of this I felt assured. I found it 
necessary to open a small safe which stood at 
the farthest end of the vault and then I discov- 
ered the box; it was small, of japanned tin, and 
reminded me greatly of the make-up case in my 
dressing room at the theater. It was much 
heavier, though, and was evidently filled with 
coin — gold, perhaps. Lifting it from the floor 
where I had placed it while closing the door of the 


A HOPELESS CASE 


65 


safe, I walked outside the vault and closed the 
door of that also. Suddenly the Will impelled 
me to hurry — Somebody is coming ; hurry, 
hurry, hurry,” ran the words through my head. 
I rushed through the gilded apartments, past 
the prostrate form of the watchman, the horri- 
bly contracted face of whom I could not fail to 
observe even in my haste — and into the warm 
air of the July night. “Faster — faster,” ran 
the message through my brain, and I hastened 
to obey it, running at headlong speed in the 
direction of an alley across the street, where I 
could see, dimly outlined against a high brick 
wall, the form of the one who had provoked 
this dastardly deed — the man who had molded 
my actions as he would a piece of putty. A 
pistol shot rang out upon the still air, then an- 
other and another, and then a shrill police whis- 
tle was heard. I reached the passage and 
would have fallen exhausted, but for Kohler, 
who grasped me by the arms, and relieving me 
of my burden hurried me onward. I was 
breathless, terrorized. The footsteps of pur- 
suers gained rapidly upon us, and a command 
to “stop or I fire,” came clearly to my ears. 


66 


A HOPELESS CASE 


Then I sank down — down — down — the world 
seemed slipping from beneath me, and I fell 
into blackish space. 


Great Scott ! ” growled a voice in my ear, 
“ what’s the matter with you ? I’ve been 
trying to sleep for the last hour, and you’ve 
kicked around and carried on in such a manner 
as to drive all thoughts of the drowsy god from 
my mind. Give me some more clothes!” said 
Richmond, in desperation, reaching across my 
body and pulling the bedclothes from the floor 
where they had fallen. It was yet night, and 
^the moon shone as mellow as before, only 
further down in the heavens. 

“Have you been dreaming?” queried Rich- 
mond, arranging the coverings, which he had 
secured after an extra brilliant plunge. 

“Thank God, yes!” I replied fervently. I 
was in a heavy sweat, great drops of perspira- 
tion standing on my flesh, my body trembling 
as with ague. At my reply, Richmond sat up 
in bed, bolstered himself against the carved head 


A HOPELESS CASE 


67 

and looked earnestly at me for several minutes. 
Then he arose, raised the south window, pulled 
down the curtains further and returned to bed. 

‘‘ Les’, you’re a d fool,” he said; and 

drawing the coverings over his head, as was 
his custom no matter how warm the night, he 
composed himself for sleep. I began to think 
my companion had spoken correctly. 

“ Three!” chimed out the clock. 

‘‘Hear that?” propounded Richmond, sleep- 
ily ; “ you’ll never let me get to sleep.” 


Richmond and I must have awaked almost 
simultaneously with the sharp decisive rap on 
the hall door. 

“Eleven o’clock — time to get up,” came the 
voice of the hall boy — invariably the same 
command that followed his knock every morn- 
ing. 

Richmond was out of humor. “ He might 
just as well say ‘ Eleven o’clock,’ and go away: 
we know it’s ‘ time to get up,’ ” he growled, as 
we both got out of bed and prepared to dress. 

During the night the weather had changed, 
and instead of the hot, dusty day we had ex- 
pected would follow from the outlook of the 
heavens when we retired, it was dreary and 
gloomy, with a dismal, incessant rain, hardly 
perceptible, yet' which succeeded in thoroughly 
soaking everything and everybody out of 
doors — one of those drizzling, persistent 
68 


A HOPELESS CASE 


69 


rains so thoroughly disagreeable that it succeeds 
in making everything else disagreeable, as 
though that were its mission. 

Nice morning to walk to the restaurant,” 
complained Richmond, after he had completed 
his toilet and stood contemplating the street 
through one of the windows. 

‘‘We can ride,” returned I, throwing on my 
rubber coat and preparing for the unpleasant 
siege. Richmond followed suit, and we were 
soon in a practically empty car, rattling away 
on our journey to the modest cafe where we 
usually breakfasted. On one of the street cor- 
ners the car stopped to admit two gentlemen, 
plainly dressed, who, on depositing the custom- 
ary American coin necessary to insure their transit 
seated themselves directly opposite us. One of 
the men, a strong-looking, intelligent appearing 
person, regarded me very intently for some 
time, and finally, nudging his companion, whis- 
pered a few words to him. Then both stared 
at me, and, I must confess, made me feel rather 
uncomfortable under their searching gaze. 
They had probably, I considered, seen me at the 
theater the night before, and, ungentlemanly 


70 


A HOPELESS CASE 


though it was, ‘took this method of showing 
their appreciation, or rather, wonderment. 
They noted everything about me, evidently — 
from top to toe, nothing escaped their rigid 
scrutiny. The ungentlemanly conduct of the 
pair aroused my anger, and when I pulled the 
bell strap as the car drew near the restaurant I 
could not refrain the somewhat old but never- 
theless appropriate observation, “ Well, sirs, I 
sincerely trust you will know me on first sight 
when we meet again.” The man with the 
dark moustache was a little disconcerted at this, 
but his companion, on the contrary, laughed and 
said, ‘‘We most certainly shall.” I walked 
stiffly to the door, preceded by Richmond, who 
on stepping from the platform of the car to 
the muddy sidewalk, growled, “ Idiots ! They 
seem to have no more respect than a second- 
class burlesque super. ” 

Seated within the cozy cafe^ Richmond’s ill 
temper relaxed a little, and by the time the ap- 
petizing breakfast was placed before him, it was 
wholly gone. 

“ The Herald- News he remarked, as he 
placed a paper he had been perusing down 


A HOPELESS CASE 


71 


beside him, and took up his* knife and fork, 
“give you an elegant ‘send off’ — ‘finest thing 
ever witnessed ’ and all that, you know.” 

“ So does the Examiner^'* I replied, taking 
up the paper Richmond laid aside. The paper 
fairly teemed in fact, with praises in my behalf 
— enough to turn any one’s head not used to 
such things. It is very pleasant to read that 
“ Mr. So-and-so’s conception of the part was a 
revelation — the difficult character never being 
so truthfully presented as it was last evening,” 
old as the story may be. 

“You will pardon my uncultivated taste, I 
know,” remarked Richmond, “ but I do admire 
slang — every one uses it and every one else is 
shocked when they hear it used. You will par- 
don me then, I say, when I use the term roden- 
tia^ in connection with dramatic critics; perhaps 
I should say simulated critics. Did I desire, I 
could name you seventy dramatic critics in the 
world; the remainder are amateur newspaper 
reporters — ‘journalists,’ I believe they dub them- 
selves. The competent critic and the real dra- 
matic writer are better conversant with the stage 
and requirements of a part than the average 


72 


A HOPELESS CASE 


intelligent actor himself, for he has noticed much 
and studied much, and gauges by the law, of 
silent comparison. Comparisons are not odious 
unless carried to extremes, for without the right 
of comparison dramatic critics would attend 
the theatre prepared to guage an actor by a vis- 
ionary ideal, and no one ever realized a critic’s 
ideal ; for, although idealism is, to a small extent 
necessary, it should never carry one’s better 
sense away. You cannot expect young men 
and boys fresh from colleges and public schools 
to occupy the critic’s chair at a theatre and prop- 
erly fulfill a critic’s functions. Yet they are 
attempting to do this every day in the year. 
They will treat a comic opera in the same 
manner they would a tragedy — to them there 
is no leap between King Lear and The Mikado. 
They always condemn the minor faults but are 
not intelligent enough to know the glaring im- 
proprieties. If an actress, through haste, con- 
fuses her words, they will let the world know 
it; if she reads three hundred lines with the 
wrong impression of their meaning, these 
‘critics’ are not aware of it. They are always 
writing about ‘ tearing passion to tatters,’ yet 


A HOPELESS CASE 


73 


really cannot distinguish skillfully assumed rage 
from rant. The statute books contain no clause 
restricting amateur criticism and therefore we 
are deluged with it. These people praise indis- 
criminately and condemn without reason, om- 
nivagant as to thought. You have heard of the 
one man power? Well, you heed but a single 
season on the road to convince you it is pre- 
dominant in our interior towns and cities. It is 
the man exalted to the position of ^ local ’ on 
the daily paper in an unpretentious city of, say 
12,000 souls. He is the ‘Pooh Bah’ of the 
newspaper kingdom in that section — horse 
editor, snake editor, court editor, morgue editor 
and sporting editor — never ‘ a reporter.’ When 
he enters the local theatre, where a mediocre 
attraction holds forth two nights during a week, 
he constitutes himself the dramatic critic and on 
the following morning you may learn you mis- 
took your calling when you entered on a stage 
career, and that the author of the play, whether 
a Shakspeare or a Hoyt, is a plagiarist, if not a 
horse-thief; he tells you this in horrible Eng- 
lish with a sprinkling of woi*se F rench. It never 
occurs to this man to ‘report’ a play — it is always 


74 


A HOPELESS CASE 


‘criticism;’ so he blunders on, the laughing 
stock of the true dramatic writer and the theatre- 
goers who really know better themselves. 

There was something else that attracted my 
attention in the Herald-News beside the dra- 
matic criticism, however. It had a “ sensation,” 
a double-leaded “ sensation.” Morover, the 
sensation was a “ scoop,” for not a line did the 
Examiner contain concerning it. There was 
only half a column, but it was sufficient to make 
my blood run cold a:§ I read it, from the very 
first sensational headline to the cruel little joeriod 
that ended the whole article. 

DARING BANK ROBBERY! 

The Bank of Brown & Brown entered at 
AN Early Hour and $12,000 secured. 

THE PERPETRATOR OF THE DEED 

Kills the Watchman to Gain His End 
AND Safely Makes His Escape. 

“ At half past two o’clock this morning one of 
the most daring robberies ever committed in this 


A HOPELESS CASE 


75 


city was perpetrated at Brown and Brown’s 
Banking establishment on Lexington street. At 
about the time mentioned, Patrolman Newton, 
who was walking down the street, and was 
three doors from the edifice, noticed a man 
coming out of the bank, carrying in his right 
hand a tin box. Suspecting something was 
wrong the officer called out for him to stop. 
Instead of doing so, the man ran swiftly across 
the street and joined a companion in the shadow 
of a building opposite. The two then ran 
down an alley and were lost to sight. Patrol- 
man Newton followed for a short distance, dis- 
charging several shots in the direction of the 
men. A number of other officers who had 
been called to the scene by Patrolman New- 
ton’s whistle, followed in the direction indi- 
cated, but could not even trace the footsteps of 
the robbers. 

‘‘A search at the bank evinced that the robber 
had gained an entrance through the front door, 
probably with a skeleton key. The dead body 
of the bank watehman, James Hoy, was found 
on the tile flooring, his faee frightfully discol- 
ored. A hasty examination, however, brought 


A HOPELESS CASE 


76 

to light no marks of violence on the body. Mr. 
James Brown, senior member of the firm, was 
at once summoned and a search instituted. The 
door of the iron vault was found to be unlocked, 
although securely closed. The door of a small 
safe on the inside was partly ajar and a box 
containing $13,000, belonging to a private de- 
positor, abstracted. 

“Patrolman Newton gave a very comprehen- 
sive description of the man he saw making his 
exit from the bank and his capture may shortly 
be effected.” 

“ It’s about time you ceased reading such 
flattery or your head will surely be turned,” re- 
marked Richmond, looking up. “My God, old 
fellow, what’s the matter with you ?” Genuine 
feeling for me prompted this remark of Rich- 
mond’s for I must have looked ill indeed. My 
hands trembled violently, and a sickening, nau- 
seating pain shot through me. 

“I — I am not feeling well,” I faltered, “ and 
believe I had better get back to the room.” 

“ I should say you had,” said Richmond with 
much concern, rising from the table. Then a 
hand touched me lightly on the shoulder and I 


A HOPELESS CASE 


77 


looked up with an instinctive foreboding into 
the dark, handsome face of the man I had seen 
in the street car. His companion stood by with 
a supercilious smile and regarded the proceed- 
ings with much satisfaction, 

“I am Howard Morgan, of the City Detec- 
tive Service,” said the man with the moustache, 
‘‘and have a warrant for your arrest.” 


There was considerable unsuppressed excite- 
ment around Liston’s theatre that day. Mr, 
Francis Liston stormed around his cozy office, 
his hands in his pockets, stoutly affirming “that 
young man is not guilty — pooh, pooh, bank 
robbery, what idiot, d — idiot, yes I will say d — 
idiot if I choose,” he remarked, glowering 
wickedly at his clerk who looked up from his 
writing in surprise, “ what d — idiot, I reiter- 
ate, would think of arresting him for robbing a 
bank — and a raise in his salary made only last 
night. Why, that young man is on the highway 
to success — there isn’t an unsold seat left in the 
house for two weeks to come!” 


78 


A HOPELESS CASE 


“Bail!” shrieked the little manager when 
approached later in the day, “ of course I’ll 
give bail — how much do you want, ten thous- 
and, fifty thousand, eighty million or a hundred 
million,” and he thrust his hand into one of 
his pockets as though any amount whatever 
would be forthcoming from that small recep- 
tacle, that was demanded. Not finding the 
requisite sum so conveniently reposing there, 
however, he sat down at the desk and with a 
flourish expressing kindness toward me, malig- 
nance toward the officers of the law and distrust 
of things in general, Mr. Liston signed his 
name to a check, representing several thousands 
of dollars. 

I had suffered the indignity of remaining in a 
loathsome jail for five hours, while lawyers 
police officers and judges squabbled over the 
advisability of letting me roam at large should 
sufficient security be furnished. The cynical 
detective who had observed “Mr. Howard 
Morgan, of the City Detective Force” make my 
arrest and consequently claimed a hand in it, 
pictured me, I ascertained, as a low browed, 
malignant looking person, who would have “ no 


A HOPELESS CASE 


79 


no hesitancy whatever to jump bail sir.” Mr. 
Morgan, on the contrary, declared it advisable 
to release me, and further stated Mr. Liston 
would be ‘‘amply good.” Finally every one 
connected with the justice department of the 
county, from janitor of the Court House to 
District Judge, it seemed to me, adjourned to 
take a look at the prisoner, and not deeming 
him quite as repulsive as the cynical detective 
would have made him out, consented to release 
him on proper bail being furnished “ pending 
an investigation.” 

An hour later I was re-arrested — justice hav- 
ing acted erroneously. Under no circumstances 
could a murderer be released on bail. It took 
the District Judge several hours to find this 
out — he had not “really been sure” on the first 
occasion, and now must “ frankly confess he 
was in the wrong.” They all deserted me and 
I remained during the night in my cell (as a 
choice between a pig sty and a prison cell, I pre- 
fer the sty) and reflected — that is, reflected as 
much as my bewildered brain would allow me. 
Subsequently I was released by a deputy some- 
thing-or-other from some office of authority. 


8o 


A HOPELESS CASE 


I couldn’t come this morning or you would 
have been freed then,” said he cheerfully, “ I 
was playing pool.” 

I simply looked at him and walked out. The 
slowest thing in time of need, next to a mes- 
senger boy, is a person connected with a county 
sheriff’s office- 


The morning after my imprisonment the 
Coroner’s Jury prepared to sit upon” the body 
of bank watchman, James Hoy, to ascertain the 
cause of his death. Two learned men, widely 
known as distinguished lights in the medical 
profession were sent to hold a fost~niorteni ex- 
amination on the remains of said James Hoy. 
Then something very curious occurred, for the 
two surgeons had been closeted with the body 
of the deceased in the cooling room of that most 
dreadful of all places, the morgue, but five min- 
utes, when Dr. G. Ernest Lushington appeared 
before the honorable Coroner of the county as 
he sat demurely in his office, followed almost 
directly by his colleague. Both were unmis- 
takably excited — excited much beyond the point 
surgeons are usually supposed to be. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


8l 


“ The man is not dead!” proclaimed Dr. Lush- 
ington. 

“ No,” interposed his companion, “ he has 
been in a comatose state, undoubtedly produced, 
according to my theory — ” 

“ By a — ” 

One at a time,” thundered the Coroner, ad- 
ding profanely, ‘‘ d — your theories.” Then, 
together with the learned gentlemen he went to 
ascertain the cause of excitement. 


VI 

James Hoy was proving a veritable puzzle 
to the physicians of the state. He was a 
very important witness in the celebrated Brown 
bank robbery case, and while beyond the 
question of a doubt the man was alive, he was 
certainly not in the possession of his faculties? 
for no question asked received a reply further 
than a dull vacant stare from his lack-lustre 
eyes. He could not talk, could not eat, nor 
even turn his head one way or the other and 
the worst of it was James Hoy had lain in 
this peculiar state for over two months. For 
two months had the most celebrated physicians 
in America worked over him, vainly endeavor- 
ing to induce him to show some sign of life 
further than the slugglish beating of his heart. 
Some said his brain was palsied, some learnedly 
shook their heads and contradicted this, but 
82 


A HOPELESS CASE 


83 

none seemed to know precisely what was 
wrong with this hitherto unnoticed bank watch- 
man. 

And the great bank case was to proceed with- 
out him at last! 


Never before had I fully realized how much 
misery and worry could be crowded into such a 
seemingly brief time. Nor had I ever known 
one could gain such widespread notoriety with- 
in such time — sixty days before, I was an ob- 
scure actor, content to let the world wag, now, 
according to reports, the most notorious criminal 
that ever walked the earth. At the very outset 
I found myself obliged to relinquish my duties 
at the theatre, despite the plea entered by the 
worthy manager of that institution that there 
wasn’t a seat left in the house unsold for nigh 
onto seven weeks to come.” Then, reporters, 
reporters, reporters! They made life a purga- 
tory on earth, a never ending curse as long as I 
was “ under suspicion.” Once, injudiciously, I 
consented to be “ interviewed ” by one of these 
ruthless destroyers of truth, paper and Faber 


84 


A HOPELESS CASE 


lead pencils — what I said I never fully knew, 
so rapidly were the interrogatories of this brilliant 
gentleman propounded, but of one thing I am 
certain — that not eight words concerning the 
alleged robbery passed my lips. Freely did I 
speak of my youth, my profession, even my 
age (which I told correctly and without hesita- 
tion), but on that one sacred subject I collected 
my wits enough to remark I had “ nothing to 
say.” Nevertheless the daily Westend News in 
its issue following the interview announced to 
the world in artistically pyramided headlines 
that ‘‘ The Robber Talked,” and further in- 
formed its presumably thousands of readers 
that when a News reporter called upon the 
celebrated bank robber Leslie Marlton, at his 
office in Liston’s theatre, he was very graciously 
received, the now famous ‘‘gentleman” express- 
ing satisfaction that the News with its accus- 
tomed enterprise was taking the matter up and 
would deal honestly and fairly with the case^ 
that, after gracefully motioning the reporter to 
a seat near him, Mr. Marlton said so-and-so 
and such was such, and dwelt at much length 
on the celebrated robbery, regretting extremely 


A HOPELESS CASE 


85 


that he was connected with the affair but abso- 
lutely refusing to give the name of his accom- 
plice, etc., etc. 

Biographies were everywhere. Portraits and 
‘‘pen sketches” were spread broadcast over the 
streets. The PolicemarCs Own^ yellow tinted 
and profusely illustrated with wood cuts pecu- 
liar to that periodical, devoted an entire week’s 
edition to my hitherto humble self and brought 
out on its title page a large fac-simile photo- 
graph, “ taken from life,” of the “ celebrated 
and daring young actor and bank robber.” 
One thing I could be earnestly thankful for — 
none of the cuts and sketches resembled me in 
the slightest degree, and the only direct outrage 
perpetrated was in the self- laudatory News^ 
which one morning made a specialty of the 
“supposed picture of the Whitechapel mur- 
derer,” and on the following day unblushingly 
reproduced it, with but one or two alterations, 
as a correct likeness of “ the robber.” But 
one becomes accustomed even to this. The re- 
porters mentioned besieged keyholes, and 
dogged not only my footsteps, but Richmond’s, 
in the vain hope of gathering something from 


86 


A HOPELESS CASE 


him. Richmond was not as lenient as I, and 
stories of the rough treatment the industrious 
scribes received at his hands frequently came to 
my ears. Richmond was, at the outset, arrested 
as the accomplice, but released on the examina- 
tion, when the officer who gave chase testified 
positively he was not the man and furthermore 
gave an excellent description of Kohler. The 
indignity he suffered seemed to sour him for- 
ever on reporters or newspaper men of any 
kind, although I never considered he had the 
provocation I had. 

One of the most memorable encounters with 
these persistent, provoking, yet necessary por- 
tion of our population, was the day an enter- 
prising gentleman resorted to the old time step- 
ladder and transom method. 

“What have you got to say?” he queried, 
leaning over the door, pencil in one hand and 
note book in the other. 

I eyed him as grimly as possible from my 
seat by the desk and replied coldly, “Noth- 
ing.” 

“ But this is for the Gazette- Tribune; I am 
the special correspondent and was sent here for 


A HOPELESS CASE 


87 

the express purpose of interviewing you,” he 
remarked in a tone meant to convince that when 
the Gazette-Tribune sent a representative to 
interview one, there was no trifling about the 
matter. 

‘‘Young man, your enterprise in gaining 
access — even if but a partial access — to my 
apartment is commendable. Your sphere is 
in Siberia. Kindly take my regards with you 
to the managing editor of the great daily you 
represent, or whoever it was assigned you to 
this task, and inform him I have nothing to 
say.” 

“ Did you do it ?” persisted the interrogation 
point, not heeding my remarks in the least. 

“ Do what?” was the innocent inquiry. 

“ Rob the bank.” 

“Yes, twenty of them, stop a moment and I 
will give you the list! ” 

The young man, evidently growing heedless 
of his foot rest on the opposite side of the door, 
nearly fell headlong into the room as he endeav- 
ored to write in his leather bound note book, 
gasped something about his being “ sent here 
for news, want news and won’t go away with- 


88 


A HOPELESS CASE 


out news,” an3 then floundered helplessly back- 
ward through the transom, and upon the carpet 
of the hall outside. 

A moan came from without and alarmed lest 
the rash reporter had injured himself seriously, 
I unlocked the door and went to his assistance, 
disentangled him from the step ladder and chair 
and placed him on his feet. Ungratefulness is 
man’s nature the world through, and unmindful 
of what I had done, not even deigning to thank 
me, he caught up his book and pencil, grasped 
me by the lappel of my coat and said, “ Honest- 
ly now, didn’t you do it? ” I broke from him 
and fled from the house by a rear door. He is 
a queer man, this American spur-of-the-moment 
scribbler. 

In nineteen cases out of twenty, reporters are 
gentlemen — there are exceptions in every call- 
ing. The American reporter has made him- 
self what he is. He smiles in adversity and 
takes success as a matter of course. He is con- 
tent to be known to the world as a “ reporter 
for this paper ” — it never gets any further. 
His only fault is that he is inclined rather ego- 
tistically among his fellow craftsmen. Usually 


A HOPELESS CASE 


89 

he is immobile. The pointed, and often sar- 
castic notes from the managing editor are re- 
ceived with the same outward show as the 
verbal sentence from the same source: “We 
had an excellent paper to-day; your article on 
the Flamflurry Flimsies was unusually good.” 
He is beyond the fault of showing surprise, but 
the heart of the American reporter is just as 
susceptable of condemnation as it is of com- 
mendation; he is only a man after all. “As- 
signments” are never shirked, let them call 
him where they will. Patience and persistence 
are his rules in life. I can forgive a reporter 
many things not to be countenanced in people 
of other callings. He is ever on the alert for 
criminal “sensations” — the mistake of Ameri- 
can newspapers. There was no original demand 
for criminal news; there is no demand now. 
The managing editor mistakes his readers every 
time he gives an order for a “ spread ” on the 
latest murder; he would have the homicide of 
Cain double-leaded, sub-headed, and a plat of 
the ground inserted, yet two-thirds of the 
readers would pass it by after perusing the 
head lines and seek the gossip, personal or 


90 


A HOPELESS CASE 


humorous columns. It is different when the 
baker runs away with the shoemaker’s wife 
— it has been different from time immemorial. 
This is the true sensation — scandal. Every 
one reads the scandal column to the end and 
then regrets there was so little of it. Sen- 
sation spreading is often called journalism; if it 
is journalism, so is dime-novelism. It is proper 
that villainy should be exposed, but it is not 
equitable that it should be dwelt upon as it is in 
America; it is erroneous to make heroes of our 
murderers and saints of our adventurers. The 
whole thing may be corrected in the editorial 
rooms and at the desk of the managing editor. 

It is not the American reporter’s fault that 
homes are invaded and defiled and reeking scan- 
dal sown broadcast over the country. It is 
gradually drummed into him by unwelcome 
‘‘ assignments.” And the reporter is distinctly 
an American article when one judges by enter- 
prise. He takes a natural pride in his work, 
but is often inclined to over-estimate its worth, 
just as our novelists are. His connection with a 
daily paper does not insure that he has abil- 
ity, especially in the West and South, where 


A HOPELESS CASE 


91 


matters are always carried to extremes. The 
man who uses his office to gain an unfair advan- 
tage over some opponent, the man who parades 
his calling on every narrow occasion, who per- 
sists in directing his acquaintances’ attention to 
“ my article on the Death of Jeremiah,” who 
asks if something is due him for this morning’s 
‘‘send off,” who really believes the world would 
not wag on without him, has accidently stum- 
bled into his position, is not a newspaper re- 
reporter and would undoubtedly attend to his 
duties as a blacksmith with better success and 
with greater satisfaction — at least to the world. 
One may be modest with profit in any profession 
and yet attend to business. The unobtrusive 
gentleman is the real gentleman and will be 
recognized more promptly than he who in- 
trudes on the public peace. Happily, the last 
mentioned specimen is a rarity in the newspaper 
world ; but where he does assume sway, stands 
an unmitigated nuisance. No one has, as yet^ 
I believe, really analyzed the American reporter 
and American editor, and I am not attempting 
to do so. We countenance them at present as 
a necessity — among the people we could not do 


92 


A HOPELESS CASE 


without. We respect them for the good they 
often do, and with all their faults, still love them 
— when they keep within bounds. 

Then there were the lawyers. 

Hon. Hosea Legalboy was a practitioner and 
politician of much reputation and worth. He 
was “ almost ” elected to the lower house of 
Congress once, ‘‘very nearly” chosen Governor 
of the State at another time, and only the month 
previous to my peculiar misfortune “ would 
have been ” elected to a seat in the Senate of 
the United States, had his political party en- 
joyed the distinction of a majority in the state 
legislature. The main trouble with Mr. Legal- 
boy politically was — he usually found himself 
on that particular spot, known in American pol- 
itics as the “ wrong side of the fence.” Legally, 
he had not a peer, and but very few equals. As 
a criminal lawyer, he was an expert and had 
once been referred to in a jury address, by a 
rising young attorney as the “ gentleman who 
had aided more criminals in going unpunished 
than any attorney in the state.” Having a suf- 
ficient sum at my command to carry me through 
a most expensive ordeal — thanks to Manager 


A HOPELESS CASE 


93 


Liston — I had no hesitancy in seeking Hon. 
Legalboy from the outset. But when I related 
the peculiar case to him as it actually occurred, 
he smiled in a very superior way and remarked 
dryly, “weak, very weak — of course, no one 
will believe it, you don’t, I don’t, the Jury will 
not, and the Court will laugh.” 

“ Upon my honor, sir, every word I have 
spoken is true.” 

“‘Honor among’ — pardon me sir, but I 
am accustomed to deal with matters of this 
kind and you had better let me pursue just 
what course I think best. Now, I would 
demonstrate to the jury that while you may 
have been on the spot at the time this unfor- 
tunate affair occurred, you had nothing what- 
ever to do withit and this policeman could 
not possibly have seen you, as the light from 
within did not strike you as you came from 
the building, I should further demonstrate 
that you went to the bank for very sufficient 
causes and — ” 

“ Pardon me, sir, you do not seem to take in- 
to consideration the truth of the matter in any 
instance. Is not this man whom I have spoken 


94 


A HOPELESS CASE 


to you of directly responsible for the occur- 
rence — is he not the guilty one, the one to be 
punished ?” 

“Possibly — if such a man lived, but, under 
the circumstances, I would demonstrate to the 
jury — ” 

“ Something that is false in every particular. 
Well sir, since you are determined to demon- 
strate to the jury something entirely foreign to 
the nature of the case, I believe I shall be forced 
to seek some one else, who will conduct this 
peculiar affair on at least an honest basis.” 
With this remark I arose and prepared to go, 
drawing on my gloves and starting for the 
door. 

The Hon. Hosea Legalboy leaned back in 
his great easy office chair and gazed at me in- 
tently. 

“You don’t look exactly as I imagine an 
ideal bank robber would,” he mused, “ but 
you’re a d — liar when you try to palm off any 
such tale on me as you just attempted to. Still, 
why not conduct a case in that form ?” he mused. 
“By the Lord Har — have you told this story 
to any one else ?” 


A HOPELESS CASE 


95 


“ No sir, — that is, only to Richmond; he can 
testify I was lying in bed all the time,” I re- 
plied eagerly. I was a great admirer of the 
Honorable Hosea and was willing to forgive 
all his uncharitable remarks, did he consent to 
take the case. 

“ Oh, Richmond can testify, can he,” he re- 
marked sarcastically, “ and do you happen to 
know of any one else who can ‘testify’ so aptly ?” 

“ Sir—” I began. 

“I know, I know,” he interrupted, “Rich- 
mond will be a good witness nevertheless. 
Hang it all, young man, I half believe your 
story, flimsy as it is. Come up to-morrow af- 
ternoon, relate it to me once more and we’ll 
decide on some plan of warfare. — I’ll take your 
case, hopeless as it is ! ” 

* * 

H: 

And Miss Barbury. 

Bless her! She never doubted me for one 
minute, although I only hastily explained the 
affair to her. 

“ You didn’t do it, I know you didn’t and it 
will come all right in the end, I am sure, so 
sure, it will.” 


VII 


‘‘Order, order in the court!” 

The pompous little judge leaned forward in 
his creaking, rusty, un-oiled chair, rapped 
sharply on the oaken side of the desk with his 
small steel paper cutter, the buzz and hum of 
conversation throughout the immense room 
ceased, and I was “ on trial ” at last. The inci- 
dents of the past nine weeks passed quickly 
through my brain and I smiled involuntarily as 
I recalled the humorous features, frowned as 
the more complicated ones arose, and felt 
thoroughly miserable as I contemplated that 
the whole affair was no joking matter and the 
outcome of the trial really was a question of 
freedom or slavery — possibly of life or death. 
What swift changes had been brought about, 
what turning points in a hitherto smooth, 
unruffled career! “The unexpected always 
happens” was once the favorite citation of a 
96 


A HOPELESS CASE 


97 


journalist I knew, and although I had before 
regarded the pet phrase rather heedlessly, it 
occurred and re-occurred to my confused brain 
as a full realization of my insecure position 
gradually dawned upon me. Why was I made 
to suffer? An innocent person, who had never 
intentionally done a wrong, who was content to 
live only in the atmosphere of his chosen pro- 
fession, whose only desires were to rise to a 
place of honor in that profession, whose pros- 
pects had been exceedingly brilliant, yet whose 
hopes seemed needlessly crumbled through the 
intervention of a meddling, wizard-like old 
man, in his repulsive, sickening greed for gold ? 
The thought was maddening. Why could I 
not trace him out, stop his hellish work and 
bring him to the steps of justice ? 

Why, why, why — the everlasting re-iterative 
why. 

Sleep and I had been unknown acquaintances 
during the few days preceeding the trial, and 
sunken and heavy were the eyes of the “ pris- 
oner at the bar,” as they surveyed the crowd 
within the court when the judge rapped 
“order.” What a throng it was! Row upon 


98 


A HOPELESS CASE 


row of faces greeted my scrutiny, some brown, 
some red, some pale and very sic*kly ; the face of 
the student, of the business man, of the lounger 
— all sensation lovers. Women there were, 
too, eagerly scanning the principal actors of the 
life drama, and while curiosity was stamped on 
the countenances of all, pity could be discerned 
on a few. Many leveled small black opera glasses 
at me, and their scrutiny made my cheeks burn; 
others not fortunate in the possession of glasses, 
peered over the heads of their neighbors and 
inquired ‘‘which is Marlton?”; a few leaned 
back in their seats and patiently awaited the be- 
ginning of proceedings. It was very like a 
theatre, and to the spectators the awful ordeal 
I was destined to go through seemed an enter- 
taining drama; what was the actor to them? 
Could they be better pleased than with an un- 
happy denouement? 

A low railing, extending the entire width of 
the room, separated the spectators from the 
court, the jury, the lawyers, the prisoner and 
the newspaper representatives. The latter, five 
in number, seated on a platform at the side of a 
long table on which was spread promiscuously 


A irOPEI.ESS CASE 


99 


paper, pens, pencils, knives and ink, occupied 
a position of honor beside that dignitary ‘‘ the 
Court,” and cast searching looks down at “ the 
prisoner” ever and anon as though to make sure 
he had not, through some mysterious power, 
vanished into nothingness and ingeniously es- 
caped. The prisoner was seated at the side of 
his attorney and studied the physiognomy of the 
jury, the spectators, and occasionally the news- 
paper men themselves, while the attorney, evi- 
dently regarding matters like this daily occur- 
rences, thrummed lightly with his fingers on 
the green baize table covering and vacantly re- 
garded the attorney on the opposite side of the 
table who, in turn, just as vacantly disregarded 
him. 

“ Is the prosecution ready ? ” 

The prosecution, represented by a rather 
slightly built man with a smooth boyish face 
which contrasted strangely with an almost to- 
tally bald head, signified it was, and thereupon 
arose and after stumbling through the prelimi- 
nary necessities, grew rather excited and 
launched forth on what would be demonstra- 
ted to the jury.” The prosecution would show 


lOO 


A HOPELESS CASE 


that one of the boldest robberies ever peipetra- 
ted had occurred right in the heart of a throb- 
bing, pulsing city. Daring, the prosecution 
would say, for the reason it showed there were 
thieves, nay murderers, at the very footsteps of 
citizens, that even barred doors were not safe 
against outrages, that, think of it gentlemen of 
the jury, (and the prosecution’s voice was hoarse 
and sepulchral) ‘‘ our lives are not safe in our 
hands!” The amount stolen in this case was 
very small, trifling, the prosecution would say; 
that was not the question; the very manner in 
which the robbery was committed cried out to 
heaven. A lesson was to be taught; gentle- 
men, let us teach it well. It was not alone the 
question of money, gentlemen, it was not alone 
the amount abstracted from that vault, it was, 
gentlemen — and think of it, sirs — it was a ques- 
tion of safety and of peace to the community ; 
aye, not only the community but the world at 
large! There was, undoubtedly, a nest of 
thieves and bank robbers in this fair city, the 
pearl of the American continent, the pride 
of a thriving state! It was a nest of vipers^ 
of scorpions; let us crush it out, gentlemen; 


A HOPELESS CASE 


lOI 


let us wipe it from the earth ! W e have 
one of their number, let us teach a lesson! 

The prosecution wiped his face with a hand- 
kerchief and attempted to proceed, when the 
defense arose calmly and entered an objection. 

“Already?” gasped the prosecution. “On 
what grounds, sir, what grounds, I should like 
to know?” 

The defense remarked that the prisoner’s 
guilt had not yet been proven ; that the prose- 
cution was not supposed to argue the case at 
present, but to tell the jury what method it was 
to pursue; that the prosecution’s remarks were 
wholly irrelevant, and that the prosecution was 
“off” on the law and didn’t know what he was 
talking about. 

“ Objection sustained,” snapped the Court. 

The prosecution glared at the defense, the 
defense glared back, the spectators laughed, 
were called to order, the jury nodded and the 
reporters scribbled furiously. 

“We intend to show then,” resumed the 
prosecution, “ that Leslie Marlton, the prisoner 
at the bar, is one of a number of thieves, that he 
was the willing instrument of a bank robbery 


103 


A HOPELESS CASE 


that occurred on the morning of July 5th, 
at Brown & Brown’s bank, that he was sup- 
plied with skeleton keys and a sufficient knowl- 
edge of affairs at the bank to gain an entrance 
and abstract money to the amount of $12,000. 
Furthermore, we shall show, gentlemen,” and 
the prosecution leaned earnestly forward, “ that 
this knowledge was gained by the prisoner du- 
ring a certain period when he was employed by 
Brown & Brown as book-keeper.” 

The prosecution gulped down a tumbler of 
water and resumed his seat with the expression 
of extreme satisfaction of having already won 
the victory. 

The defense reserved its statement, and the 
prosecution proceeded with its witnesses, the 
little lawyer calling out, “ Patrolman New- 
ton,” and that individual coming awkwardly 
forward, held his right hand aloft as though 
in mortal fear it would not be held high 
enough when the oath was administered. Pa- 
trolman Newton went through the usual tedi- 
ous and seemingly unnecessary preliminary tes- 
timony with regard to his residing in B 

for so many years, his occupation, the age of 


A HOPELESS CASE 


103 

himself, his wife, and the number of young 
Newtons the family was blessed with, in a 
manner most exemplary, then proceeding to 
come down to business and state what he knew 
of the matter in hand, in which the people of 

state of were plaintiffs and Leslie Marl- 

ton, defendant. Patrolman Newton was on his 
beat, near Brown & Brown’s bank, on the morn- 
ing in question, and at about half-past 2 o’clock 
saw a man coming out of the front door of that 
edifice rather hurriedly ; thought at first it was 
the watchman, but noticing his clothes were 
lighter than those usually worn by that individ- 
ual and that he carried a tin box, he called out 
for the man to “stop;” the man thereupon 
started to run and joined a companion on the 
opposite side of the street. Witness said he 
saw the features of the man who left the bank, 
with such utter disregard for the warning of 
of the law, very plainly, and was positive that 
man was the one (pointing to the prisoner) ; he 
also saw his companion clearly in the moonlight^ 
and the witness then described Kohler minutely, 
from his green little eyes to his ill-fitting shoes. 
He had observed the man (and this time “ the 


A HOPELESS CASE 


104 

man ” referred to was Kohler) assist the other 
along the alley as they ran, and had also ob- 
served “ the man ” take the tin box from the 
hand of the ‘‘ other man ” when the other 
man ” crossed the street. Having thus intelli- 
gently delivered himself, and after a rigid cross- 
examination as to whether such was such and 
he was sure ‘‘ the man ” was not the other 
man” or vice versa^ that his eye-sight was 
good, that he was confident he was forty years 
old and that the Newton family numbered 
four youngsters and a wife and mother (or 
questions to that effect) the blushing and be- 
wildered policeman was allowed to retire. 

As Policemen Willis, who was next called 
was sworn, and stepped on the witness stand, 
just as awkwardly as his predecessor, it bccured 
to me how strange it was that people who were 
familiar with the courts and legal proceedings 
seemed so greatly embarrassed when compared 
with those who were utter strangers to such 
matters. Later on, when other witnesses testi- 
fied so coolly and I contrasted their actions with 
those of the two officers of the law, the puzzle 
became more conflicting and unsatisfactory to 


A HOPELESS CASE 


105 

solve. Patrolman Willis had been placed on 
the stand for the purpose of testifying that 
he had seen and talked with me on the 
night of the robbery, had spoken on several 
subjects, that I had appeared quite calm and 
that he had not observed any ‘‘ pal ” I might 
have had. 

Then there came a whole troop of witnesses 
in rapid succession and what they said, or did, 
or testified to I never fully understood. I know 
that both of the Brown’s were sworn and stated 
they ‘‘ thought ” I had been a trusted employe 
of theirs several years before, that I “ looked 
like ” him although he “ was slightly bald,” 
that the book-keepers’ name was' Muggins but 
he might have changed it to Marlton, Marlton 
and Muggins began with the same letter any- 
way; that nothing of the kind had ever occur- 
red in their bank before, that they wondered 
how I ‘‘ got onto the combination, ’ that it was 
not the money they cared so much about as it 
was fear that another deed might be brought 
about in an equally mysterious manner, and an 
almost endless lot of rubbish that had nothing 
whatever to do with the matter in hand. Then 


io6 


A HOPELESS CASE 


some one else “ thought ” he had observed me 
purchasing a bunch of keys the day before the 
robbery, another “ thought ” he saw me in the 
slums of the city talking with a person he 
considered a “ very tough lot,” and still 
another was not positive, but “ believed ” he 
had seen the prisoner with the self-same tough 
lot lurking around the bank several times. 
All of which would tend to show that I was 
a very bad lot myself and a person to be 
generally avoided and regarded with suspicion 
when met. 

The examination of these witnesses con- 
sumed many hours’ time and, although the ma- 
jority of them were not positive of anything 
they said, they deemed it just as important to 
tell what they believed was the case, and so 
with long-drawn harangues, cross-examinations, 
objections, exceptions, over-rulings and other 
requirements for the successful carrying out of 
a legal suit, the day wore away, the shadows 
deepened in the corners of the great room, the 
judge fidgeted in his large chair and scowled at 
everybody, and shortly after the gas was lit, 
throwing a fitful glamour over desks and 


A HOPELESS CASE 


107 

people, the prosecution closed and the Court 
adjourned until the following morning for re- 
sumption of the case. 

As I walked from, the room with the honor- 
able gentleman I had selected as my attorney, 
his eyes twinkled and he appeared greatly satis- 
fied with the day’s proceedings; and when, as 
we reached the bottom of the majestic staircase 
leading to the street and a messenger accosted 
him with a note, which the Honorable Legal- 
boy read with the aid of his gold-rimmed glasses 
and the flickering light of a gas burner, a slight 
smile crossed his face as he turned to me and 
said, ‘‘Young man, your case is not one half as 
hopeless as it was this morning.” 

Then the smile faded away, the grim, wrink- 
led face resumed its usual stern aspect, and, 
although I was literally aching to know what 
the note contained — for I felt certain it related 
to my case — I bade him good evening and 
started for my lodgings. 


VIII 


On the following morning, when the Hon. 
Hosea Legalboy began to address the jury as 
to what he intended to demonstrate to that ex- 
alted body, there was little need of calling the 
steel paper cutter into use, for every one leaned 
forward as though naturally impelled to get as 
near the famous lawyer, even if but an inch or 
two, as was in any way possible under the ex- 
isting circumstances. If jDOssible, this interest 
increased as the gentleman proceeded, and when 
he came to the point of telling he would de- 
monstrate that the case was one of clear hypno- 
tism and I was the unwilling instrument of the 
robbery, the very breathing of the multitude 
sounded painfully loud. I glanced at the 
Court; his countenance wore a singularly puz- 
zled look, singular because the case was un- 
doubtedly the queerest he had probably ever 
been occupied with, puzzled — if I judged his 

io8 


A HOPELESS CASE 


109 

expression rightly — because he knew there must 
be something of truth in the matter, or a man 
of such distinction as the Honorable Legalboy 
would not enlist his services in such cause; and 
after that moment, it seemed to me, the Court 
regarded me rather more kindly. As for the 
prosecution, he sat with arms folded, a triumph- 
ant smile on his face, almost sneering, I might 
say, so confident he seemed that no proof of 
such a flimsy story could be established, and 
that it carried no weight whatever against the 
testimony he had introduced. 

The jury was composed, for the most part, 
of respectable, sedate appearing old gentlemen, 
who looked in mild surprise at the lawyer as he 
faced them, his face flushed with excitement, 
his iron-gray locks tossed wildly back from his 
wrinkled forehead, and seemed to regard him 
somewhat in the light of a lunatic; they did not 
smile however, nor did they appear at all puz- 
zled; a good ‘‘shaking ” would doubtless have 
done them a world of good. Having finished 
with the main portion of his address, as to what 
he would “ demonstrate ” the lawyer concluded 
as follows, and I must confess his words 


no 


A HOPELESS CASE 


surprised me exceedingly: ‘‘As for witnesses 
in this complicated and unparalleled case, gentle- 
men, the defense offers but four — four, sirs, is 
all we require, and they will prove to you con* 
clusively, and beyond a doubt, that this young 
man stands thoroughly innocent of the serious 
crime he has been basely charged with; we 
shall not demonstrate, gentlemen of the jury, 
that the prisoner, Leslie Marlton, did not enter 
the bank, but that he did so and abstracted the 
money therefrom under compulsion, that, as far 
as he was concerned, the robbery was not pre- 
meditated, as the prosecution would lead you to 
believe, but on the contrary, he was not aware 
of any such intention five minutes before he 
opened the door of that bank ! ” 

“Four witnesses, are you mad?” I whis- 
pered as he resumed his seat. I had supposed — 
nay, actually knew that at least eight had been 
subpoenaed on my behalf, particularly those 
who were on the boat when I first met Kohler 
and had observed my hatred for him. Miss Bar- 
bury being one of the principals. 

“Who will you get beside Miss Barbury, 
Richmond and myself ? ” I queried. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


III 


Miss Barbury will not be called,” replied 
the lawyer shortly, ‘‘ you had better keep quiet; 
I am conducting this case,” by way of an ex- 
tinguisher; and then he said, “ I could almost 
clear you with one witness if I chose.” 

This retort puzzled me greatly, but I decided 
to make the best of it, for Hon. Hosea Legal- 
boy probably knew better than I, I considered. 

My name was called first, and my heart 
bounded high in my breast, thumped wildly as 
though clamouring for release from its im- 
prisonment, while a filmy whiteness crossed my 
vision as I stepped forward, upholding my right 
hand for the oath. When I seated myself on 
the witness stand however, the first ‘‘stage 
fright ” I had ever experienced left me, and I 
could even gaze calmly into the black, formida- 
ble barrels of the opera glasses leveled at me by 
a mature dame just beside the railing. I heard 
the murmur and rustle of approval as I came 
forward and even a slight attempt at applause, 
which was, however, quickly hushed by the 
steel paper cutter in the hands of his honor. 

Lawyers stop at nothing when they get a 
witness on the stand. Often it seems to me, 


II2 


A HOPELESS CASE 


they propound questions merely for the gratifi- 
cation of public curiosity, for what material 
difference does it make in a case to know where 
one was born, who one’s parents were and who 
their parents were, how many sisters one had 
or how many brothers ? I attempted to answer 
all interrogatories cheerfully however, and as 
for my history, like Othello, 

'‘'‘Ran it through even from my boyish days 
To the very moment he hade ine tell it^"' 

and the crowd in the room seemed thoroughly 
satisfied with the recital. Of course my account 
of the meeting with Kohler and the subsequent 
events proved very interesting and was attent- 
vely, almost breathlessly listened to, and some 
smiled and shook their heads, while the jury 
evidently considered mine was a worse case of 
insanity than my lawyer’s. The Court, how- 
ever, wore the same puzzled, half doubting look. 

Then Richmond was called and asked to 
relate his story, afterward being put to the tor- 
tures of a rigid and senseless cross-examination, 
tiring in the extreme. 

As a matter of fact,” said the prosecution, 
in his attemj)t to induce Richmond to deny what 


A HOPELESS CASE 


II3 


he had directly testified to (the prosecution 
always began with ‘‘as a matter of fact”) 
“were you not asleep between the hours of 
two and three o’clock when you say you were 
so positive this man Marlton was in bed with 
you?” 

“ I was not asleep,” firmly retorted Richmond, 
looking absently at “this man Marlton,” “he 
kicked all the cloth — I — I — mean — ” 

“ Ah, you were asleep then,” observed the 
prosecution calmly and aggravatingly. 

“ I didn’t say so.” 

“What made you stutter then; don’t you 
know, as a matter of fact, that you were 
asleep ? ” 

“I was not asleep,” reiterated Richmond. 

“ How do you know you were not? ” 

This was a “stopper” certainly and Rich- 
mond mumbled that he supposed it was because 
he was awake. 

“ Ah-h,” said the prosecution serenely, “you 
suppose it was because you were awake, do 
you; as a matter of fact were you not asleep, 
and further, were you not dreaming at the 
time?” 


II4 


A HOPELESS CASE 


“ No sir,” exclaimed Richmond with a ring 
of triumph, ‘‘ I know I was awake because I 
pinched myself.” 

Some indiscreet individual in the rear of the 
room gave utterance to an hysterical “te he” 
just then, which ended in a low wail of terror, 
as a vigilant deputy seized the offender by the 
ear. Richmond smiled and glanced at the 
prosecution, who turned very red indeed and 
stopped a rising “as a matter of fact” half way 
in his throat. Then he attempted to show that 
Richmond was wrong as to the time of night 
but my colleague was entirely too positive for 
the quizzing attorney and after a few more 
fruitless efforts on the part of the latter, was 
allowed to retire. 

The next witness named by the Hon. Hosea 
Legalboy caused a great flutter throughout 
the audience, a glance of surprise on my part, 
a wild, startled look on the part of the pros- 
ecution, who, I felt assured, stifled an interest- 
ing sentence commencing, “ well I’ll be ,” 

a look of expectancy on the part of the jury 
and a sudden lighting of the countenance of 
his honor who evidently believed he had an 


A HOPELESS CASE 




inkling intothe case at last; for my attorney 
has quietly commanded a deputy to call in 
James Hoy! 

A door at the side was flung open and James 
Hoy, very pale, very weak and very much flur- 
ried, if the hectic flush on his cheeks was such 
an indication, limped in between two attendants, 
was placed in a chair, whereupon he immed- 
iately collapsed and had to be straightened up. 
Then some one held up the proper palm while 
the oath was being administered, and he was 
asked to tell his story. This, however, he was 
wholly unable to do, for he hardly knew what 
to say or how to begin, although, it seemed to 
me, he must have been thoroughly coached; 
finally he suggested, after hopelessly flounder- 
ing around and collapsing twice, that Mr. 
Legalboy draw him out;” which that gentle- 
man at once proceeded to do with more satis- 
factory results. Mr. Hoy, at intervals between 
collapses, then gave a very comprehensive re- 
view of his life and family matters and then, 
“ being brought out” further, dwelt on the rob- 
bery, or at least as much of it as he could dwell 
on, as follows: 


Il6 A HOPELESS CASE 

“ I hearn the do’ slam an’ jumped up from 
where I wuz sittin’ in Misser Brown’s office an’ 
went out; there I seed this yer man” (indicat- 
ing the prisoner, collapsing, and, upon being 
straightened again and asked “ you say this 
man, what then ” proceeded) ‘‘ standin’ in the 
middle of the flo”; I as’t him to stop, and pulled 
my pistol ; then I as’t him where his pal wuz an’ 
he opened his mouth to say suthin’ when I hearn 
a noise on the winder as though it was some 
one tappin’; I look’t past his shoulder an’ saw a 
man lookin’ inter the winder an’ rite at me with 
th’ horriblest eyes I ever yit seen in a person’s 
head; they ges’ kep’ blinkin’ an’ blinkin’ like 
two coals o’ fire; then the thing raised its ban’s, 
like claws they were, an’ a pain shot thru’ me 
like as if a hot iron was stuck into my head an’ 
the hole filled up with ice; then 1 guess I fell.” 
Shuddering from the memory of the pain, of 
which he had given a doubtless true, if not art- 
istic or thrilling recital, James Hoy collapsed 
again, this time recovering with much difficulty 
for the cross-examination, which the prosecution 
conducted in a half-hearted, slip-shod and wan- 
dering manner. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


II7 


Bewildered as he was, however, he had pres- 
ence of mind enough to ask the witness how 
his remarkable recovery came about, a question 
I was positively burning to have answered, but 
which to my disappointment. Hoy only replied 
to by saying he “ supposed he come-to nat’rally,” 
evidently not knowing he had been unconscious 
for any length of time. At the conclusion of 
the cross-examination there was, as might have 
been expected, and for that matter was expected, 
a final collapse, and the bank watchman was 
carried out unconscious by four stalwart dep- 
uties. 

Mr. Legalboy had caused general surprise by 
the introduction of James Hoy — now he created 
a sensation by announcing ‘‘Justin Kohler,” and 
when that important individual, who had drop- 
ped from my life for two months, was literally 
dragged in by two officers from an adjoining 
room, the buz and hum of the court room could 
not be stopped even by the steel paper cutter. 
There was no change in Kohler, excepting he 
had lost his sneering, hard smile; the wicked 
little green eyes were there and snapped more 
viciously than ever, and the uneven, black teeth 


Il8 A HOPELESS CASE 

lent a most repulsive appearance to the face. 
Two deputies stood at his sides and were 
watchful and vigilant lest he should attempt 
to escape. For the first time in my life I 
noticed Mr. Legalboy excited; perhaps it 
would not have been observed by a less 
interested person, for the gentleman endeav- 
ored to suppress his feelings, but I could not 
fail to see that he was very troubled and 
seemed anxious to have the matter through 
with and Kohler out of his sight as quickly 
as possible. This may have accounted for his 
somewhat abrupt question at the very outset, 
and the discarding of the usual preliminary 
questions as to age, residence, etc., forhe asked: 
‘‘ Who committed the robbery that occurred 
on the morning of July 5th, 188 — at Brown 
and Brown’s bank?” 

Witness and attorney looked straight into each 
other’s eyes, and it was several minutes before 
the question was answered; a mental conflict 
seemed progressing, a conflict to determine the 
stronger of tv/o will powers. Finally Kohler 
said, “ Leslie Marlton.” 

Yes,” said the lawyer, his voice somewhat 


A HOPELESS CASE 


1 19 

firmer, “but did he do it of his own free will?” 

The stillness of the room was terrible; again 
a conflict between the powers of the mind oc- 
curred and again the terrible pause, 

“ No,” very sullenly. 

“ Whose was it?” 

There was no hesitation this time. Legalboy 
had conquered, yet each man regarded the other 
with the same steadfast gaze. 

“ It was mine.” 

“ Do you believe in hypnotism ?” 

“ I do.” 

“ Are you a mesmerist or hypnotist ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“You needed money on the fourth day of 
July, 188 — did you not?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ How much?” 

“ Twelve thousand dollars.” 

“ When did you meet Leslie Marlton ?” 
“July Fourth, 188 — .” 

“Where?” 

“ On the excursion boat ‘ Thespian.’” 

“ He saved your life, did he not? ” 

“ Yes.” 


120 


A HOPELESS CASE 


“ Relate what occtirred on that steamer.” 
The lawyer leaned forward. 

“ I will not,” slowly and clearly said the wit- 
ness. Again the struggle. The lawyer sighed 
and resumed his questioning. 

“ Y ou attended Liston’s theatre on the night 
of July 4, did you not? ” 

“ Yes.” 

And there saw Leslie Marton ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You also brought your science of mesmer- 
ism into play to determine whether or not he 
was a good subject ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

‘‘ Did he prove such?” 

« Yes.” 

“ At the conclusion of the second act of 
Broken Hearts^ you left the theatre and went 
to your lodgings?” 

« Yes.” 

“ And while there procured a small ivory 
toy, resembling a dragon, which you imbued 
with mesmeric power, a secret which you alone 
know ? ” 

‘‘ Yes.” 


A HOPELESS CASE 


121 


Here the prosecution recovered from his 
wonderment to the extent of entering an ob- 
jection. “Let the witness testify himself; I 
object to having words put in his mouth,” said 
he. 

Legalboy got up to address the Court; he 
had evidently been expecting the objection, and 
seemed surprised it had not been entered be- 
fore. The speech was of some length and 
based upon the plea that while “ drawing a 
witness out ” was not tolerated generally, this 
was an exceptional case, that moreover, it had 
already been allowed in this very case, as dem- 
onstrated in the testimony of James Hoy — why 
did not, asked the the lawyer, the prosecution 
enter an objection then? So thick leather 
bound books were brought to bear on the sub- 
ject, a dispute ensued, and the whole matter 
ended in his honor sustaining the objection, 
after a lengthy address as to the reason of his 
so doing, the meaning of which I could not 
clearly understand, and at which ruling the de- 
fense called out sullenly, “ exception,” and 
pronounced loudly, a “ remarkable proceeding 
in a court like this.” 


123 


A HOPELESS CASE 


Legalboy resumed his seat, stared hard at 
Kohler and proceeded. 

“Tell what occurred.” 

“ I refuse to do so.” 

Legalboy and Kohler both leaned forward; 
the battle was an intensely bitter one; many 
wondered what the silence meant, while I fancied 
I could see sparks fly from the eye-balls of the 
two men as one sees fly from some flinty rock 
the moment a horse’s hoof strikes it. The 
steadfast gaze conveyed little impression to the 
others in the room, perhaps; I understood, and 
the battle of the minds meant freedom or 
slavery to me. 

How the clock ticked, ticked, ticked. 

“ He will lo-se, he wi-11 lo-se, pris-on, pris- 
on ”, it said. Oh, God, would they never 
stop! Why did not some one cough, or laugh, 
or cry? Why this hoirihle, deathly stillness? 
“He wi-11 lo-se, pri-son, pri-son.” Yes, 
yes, he would lose. Why had the Court in- 
terfered? Why should he not allow Legalboy 
to proceed as he did at first, when he gained 
the victory? Where was justice, where law, 
where, ah! 


A HOPELESS CASE 


123 


A low hideous laugh filled the room, and a 
body fell heavily forward on the floor. I started 
up in terror — Legalboy had failed. A loud 
murmur ran through the edifice and several 
shrieked. Some one shouted, ‘‘ look to the 
prisoner,” as I stooped to lift the lawyer from 
the carpet. His face was ghastly, and his eyes 
glassy. A man standing near dashed water in 
his face, and his eyes gradually resumed their 
sparkling brilliancy. He staggered forward, 
shuddering; then, his eyes resting on Kohler, 
regarded him steadily for several minutes. 

The crowd was in a tumult, yet, above it all 
a voice finally arose clearly and distinctly. 
“ You will proceed,” it said, and I saw Legal- 
boy toying with his gold-rimmed eye-glass as 
he spoke. 

‘‘ A sudden faintness,” he explained to the 
Court, the witness is now ready to speak.” 

The lawyer leaned back in his chair, and 
Kohler, with a look of malignance, began his 
narrative. 

‘‘ This image I sent as a gift to Leslie Marl- 
ton directly he reached his lodgings; the mo- 
ment he looked into the eyes of the creature 


124 


A HOPELESS CASE 


and fell asleep, he was in my power; I walked 
the streets for several hours and finally called 
his counterpart before me — the Leslie Marl- 
ton of dreams, but not of the flesh; his body 
lay with his companion; his heart, his brain 
and soul were mine; I let them enter the body I 
conjured up — a reproduction of his, a body 
suited to my purpose; the key used to enter 
the bank was made from a wax impression I 
secured; the combination of the vaults was 
given me by the cashier of the bank, whom 
I one night drugged; I impressed the number 
on my subject’s brain and he carried out my 
desires.” 

“ Before I turn the witness over to the prose- 
cution,” said Legalboy, in his usual calm tone, 
“ I shall have him demonstrate, if the Court 
please, that such powers as he described really 
exist — that the body of a man may be in one 
place and his counterpart in another.” 

The lawyer then produced, from a small 
satchel at one side of his chair, the same ivory 
dragon Kohler had presented me with. This 
he placed on the table near me and requested 
that I look intently at the ruby eyes. I did so. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


125 


“ The witness will,” said the lawyer, “ con- 
centrate his mind so thoroughly on his subject 
that Leslie Marlton’s counterpart will walk to 
the end of the room, while his body remains in 
that chair.” There was a short pause. Then 
I fell asleep. 

Wondering amazement was discernible on the 
faces of every one within the room, and on no 
one more than that of the prosecuting attorney. 
The Court appeared greatly disturbed; the jury 
stared at me with eyes like tea-saucers as I 
slowly awoke. 

“This, may it please the Court, is our case,” 
remarked Hon. Hosea Legalboy, rising, “ we 
are prepared for argument. I observe the pros- 
ecution does not desire to cross-examine — re- 
move the witness.” 

Kohler arose and started for the ante-room 
door, the vigilant deputies still beside him. As 
he neared my chair be hissed in my ear: “ You 
— all for you! ” Then his shackled hands were 
lifted in the air, and before their progress could 
be stopped the cruel chain descended on my 
head. % ^ sh % 


136 


A HOPELESS CASE 


“ Hush, you must not stir.” 

A soft breeze entered the window and flut- 
tered among the curtains; then it stole over to 
the bed and fanned my cheeks softly; the end 
of a bandage fell over my eyes and was gently 
re-arranged by a dainty, pink-tinted hand. The 
room was very still and peaceful and cheerful. 

Have I been ill? ” 

‘‘ Yes, nearly a week.” 

The pink-tinted hand stroked my aching 
head and the gentle voice again commanded me 
not to stir as I attempted to look into the face of 
the possessor of the attractive palm. 

« Very ill?” 

“ Y es, dear.” 

Dear! 

“ What about the trial ? ” 

‘‘ You are not to talk of that.” 

“Well, I won’t; was it guilty, or — the 
other ? ” 

“ The other.” 

Another breeze stirred the curtains. 

“ Is this Marion?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You said ‘ dear,’ just now.” 


A HOPELESS CASE 1 27 

Ye — no; you must hush; the doctor said 

“ Dear.” 

« What?” 

“ I wanted to know how it sounded.” 

The breeze died away. 

“Marion, I love you.” 

“ Hush — the doctor says — ” 

“ Will you be my wife?” 

“How you talk; the doctor — ” 

“ But will you? ” 

“Yes; now go to sleep.” 


IX 

It is singular how we become accustomed to 
things. One may, after a time, habituate one’s 
self even to matrimony. Two months previous 
to my enrollment on the books of the Liston 
company I regarded marriage as something that 
must come sooner or later, something that must 
happen sometime — perhaps the later, the better, 
a sort of remote necessity, a leap into the matri- 
monial sea being equivalent to a plunge from 
the tower of Belem. Well, it is not so very 
terrible; you have only to fall in love — and it’s 
not nearly so bad as falling in the water. I 
suppose many marry without consulting the 
Cupid oracle, but with those I have nothing in 
common. Love and Friendship, I once sup- 
posed were greatly alike, but when you come 
to study the matter you will see the difference. 
One cannot properly define love, it assumes so 
many guises, but if you ever discover a man 
128 


A HOPELESS CASE 


129 


who has a reasonable happy lot on earth and 
isn’t growling for something better, who can 
look on another’s success and say honestly, “ I 
congratulate you; ” who views the world with 
a kindly interest for all — you have found a 
friend, a real friend. I knew such a one once. 
He died. Richmond was greatly like him; yet, 
somehow, the subject of friendship was never 
discussed between us, there being a sort of 
mutual understanding that we were friends and 
were to continue as such. But friendship is not, 
strictly speaking, love. 

I have been re-reading the newspapers to- 
day — papers seven weeks old. Since their 
issuance, one has changed its political bias and 
is warmly championing the cause of a gentle- 
man it formerly dubbed a razor-backed, tooth- 
less old miser who would be a disgrace to a pig 
sty and would corrupt the morals of the gentle- 
men in red himself. Another apologizes for 
casting improper reflections on Colonel Joshua 
Newcomb, and remarks, “Since our issue of 
August — we have learned that Colonel New- 
comb is not a bull-headed idiot, as was inad- 
vertently stated, but a thorough Kentucky 


130 A HOPELESS CASE 

gentleman, who believes in the Government at 
Washington and still takes his invigorator 
straight.” A third apologizes for two columns 
of stolen editorials on the navy by stating that 
the editor was imposed upon and the writer 
discharged immediately his villainy became 
known. This does not interest me, but the col- 
umns headed ‘‘ A Sensation in Court,” ‘‘ The 
Brown Bank Robbery ” and “ A Sudden End- 
ing ” serve to, for they tell of the dismissal of 
the case of the People vs. Marlton, and the 
arrest of the guilty person, appropriately em- 
bellished with apologies and invectives, curi- 
ously mixed, for our newspapers are like our 
beverages. 

I threw the papers aside and walked toward 
the broad window. Across the street a great 
red poster announced the re-appearance of the 
‘‘famous” actor, Leslie Marlton, and a “ gorge- 
ous production ” of — here wind had torn away 
part of the name, and there remained the oddly 
lettered words “ School for — the Hunchback.” 
Yes, to-night we have another “revival” — one 
of the old time plays and one in which I feel 
I shall be thoroughly at home, for in it my wife 


A HOPELESS CASE 


makes her first appearance, that is, her first 
appearance as my wife, although the bills do 
announce: 

Helen, . . . Miss Marion Barbury, 

But Marion knows, and I know, and for that, 
for all I can tell, the whole city knows; for the 
marriage attracted considerable attention and 
the church was crowded. 

Of course Manager Liston desired Broken 
Hearts” but I refused firmly, and mayhap 
rather unjustly, to again appear as the unsightly 
Mousta, for which declaration I was termed a 
blank fool, a blank, blank fool, and a divers 
assortment of fools and lunatics. When an 
American can think of nothing else to do he 
swears — and when he swears, if you have 
been disputing with him, you know you have 
won your point. To make my resolution 
more binding, I deliberately thrust four acting 
editions of “ Broken Hearts” in the fireplace at 
Manager Liston’s office, and this too, before 
that gentleman’s horrified eyes. We both 
watched the leaves curl up with touching 
agony as the flames reached them, burn brightly 
for a moment or two, then change into little 


133 


A HOPELESS CASE 


demons of black and scurry up the chimney 
in the hot, transpicuous air. 

“You mean it then?” said the Manager, 
sadly. 

“ Yes.” 

“ After all I have done for you — bail, and 
lawyers and reporters and all ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ I can dismiss you.” 

“d can go on the road.” 

“You will remain with me.” 

And there it ended. 

To-day' a blue-coated messenger boy with 
sulphuret of iron buttons stumbled indolently 
up the steps and pulled the door bell from its 
resting place — messengers always reserve their 
strength for door bells. He had some difficulty 
in finding his book, but finally drew it from 
one of his boots, and handing me an oblong 
package, requested my signature, obtained it, and 
ambled out of sight. Marion was at rehearsal, 
the house very quiet and a soft, pattering rain 
struck the window panes musically. As I un- 
tied the cords binding the package, and threw 
them carelessly in the open grate, the wrapper 


A HOPELESS CASE 


133 


fell to the floor and disclosed a quantity of 
coarsely written manuscript, the very last page 
upturning and revealing the signature, “Justin 
Sigismund Kohler.” This made my hand 
tremble and possibly I glanced rather nervously 
around the room, as I straightened the crumpled 
pages and prepared to read they lines they con- 
tained. 

In my Cell. 

Leslie Marlton: — 

Let it be understood at the commencement, 
that I write from no motive of sympathy, either 
for you or myself. Three things, it seems, are 
left me — to sleep, to write, to go mad. It is 
impossible to sleep — my head would scorch the 
pillows, from the seething fire in my brain. 
Insanity is very near me, so near, I find it hard 
to drive it off, even with the mind and power 
that has overcome the world’s obstacles so 
wonderfully. Men exclaim and idly wonder 
why other men go mad, — unthinking, lan- 
guid, remiss bodies who only ask and 
wonder, and wondering forget. Confine 
them in a dark, ill-smelling prison with 
nothing but their thoughts for company, with 


1 34 


A HOPELESS CASE 


the horrible, close darkness of a vault pressing 
them down, and then ask them to define. it — ask 
them what madness is, of what life is valued at 
when madness must terminate it. 

Did you ever study the problem of life as 
given in the arithmetic of ages? The problem 
men are always studying and studying? Did 
you ever ask yourself what it was? Is it just, 
and right, and fair? We may trace the begin- 
ning, but only surmise the end. Struggling 
and striving, and all we really know is death. 
It is horrible, this death — few know how hor- 
rible, and to nine out of ninety thousand it 
means something. The ancient, fearful death 
about us every day; ever at our sides, ever 
watchful of our conduct, ever vigilant and ob- 
servant of our misdeeds, perpetrate them where 
we will; grinning, leering, revengeful, exacting 
death. 

The game of life is drawing to a close with me ; 
like others, I have staked too high and lost. Even 
hope, the true elixir of life, has left me, the hope 
on which we build such wondrous enterprises, 
and to-night as the shadows from the cell cor- 
ners scurry around the flickering, unsteady light. 


A HOPELESS CASE 


135 


by the aid of which I scrawl upon this paper; 
as the moan of a frenzied, sinful murderer 
reaches my ear from a cell adjoining, I ponder 
on the bright career once open before me, a 
career of science I was slowly perfecting, and 
then pace the stone floor, even venture into the 
mysterious corners, and curse again and again — 
curse you and the law. 

Sages extol contentment and tell us what it 
brings. Ah well, contentment, like woman, is 
incapable of analysis. There is truly no 
contentment. The heart only knows it for a 
fleeting time and then thumps on with its 
heaviness and sorrow. I have never known it, 
— never can. It is like the paradise men speak 
of, pray for, and even look for. I thought I 
knew it once, but found after all, ‘twas but a 
fleeting delusion. There is no earthly paradise 
— no paradise that lasts; somehow it grows old, 
and faded, and threadbare, the gold being only 
tinsel after all and the crystal, nothing but 
glass. Purgatory is near, black and horrible, 
paradise so unreal and far away, we scarcely 
catch glimpses of it, even in dreams, and I never 
dream. 


136 A HOPELESS CASE 

To-night the wardens gave me a candle — it is 
the first favor they have granted me since my 
imprisonment. I am shunned. The keepers 
come near me, only to hand me food; my com- 
panion prisoners avoid me and whisper lowly 
when, during the half hour of recreation, I pace 
the iron barred corridor. I am left alone with 
the shadows and with my thoughts. They 
would not let me write before and the darkness 
has been much too great both day and night m 
my cell, even were I so inclined. To-day, to 
save myself from madness, I requested paper, 
ink and a light, and my petition was granted. 
“ I pity you,” said the jailer when he brought 
them. Pity! — there is no pity. 

It is a great relief for me to write — even 
though the letter is for you whom I hate and 
even though I must make haste, for the candle 
is but a short one and will soon burn out. 

You heard me testify I was a hypnotist — so 
I am, and so I am contented to be. Hypnotism 
is a science with which few are familiar, yet 
thousands blindly blunder into it, only to be 
burned like the moth around the candle. It 
means more than the definition of the word. 


A IIOPEI.ESS CASE 


137 


more than you have ever read, more than you 
ever will read concerning it. How or when, 
or where I first became interested in the allur- 
ing study matters little to you. I do not intend 
to discuss the great science Mesmer, Von Gla- 
ben and others abandoned while merely in its 
infancy — my knowledge shall pass into oblivion 
with me. The fascinating and mysterious sub- 
ject occupied my whole attention; the rarest of 
old books found their way to my apartments, 
and reading I grew more enthusiastic — nothing 
should deter my investigation of the absorbing 
science and make it kneel to me as master. So 
the time passed on and I slowly grew to un- 
derstand, to live another life. The birds flutter- 
ed from the tree tops at command, and the 
crawling, loathsome serpent was harmless near 
me. I determined on more worthy subjects — 
the mind of man must succumb even as the 
birds and reptiles. My first victim died. He 
was a young man in the very sunshine of life 
and hope and was found one autumn day in the 
woods, his countenance the color of the blood- 
red leaves, his body rigid like the brov/n oak. 
Some one said an enemy strangled him, but 


A HOPELESS CASE 


138 

none knew of an enemy, so they buried the 
man and that was all. My failure made me 
more eager for success; I must study, study 
and perfect myself. For years the world saw 
nothing of me, rolled on through time and for- 
got my very existence. 

Finally I tried once more, and the attempt 
was successful beyond my wildest dreams — the 
mind of man was subjected. I would stop at 
nothing now, the world itself should not stand 
in the way of my hopes and desires — I would 
control kings; know the secret of philosophers. 

Then a woman then crossed my way. She 
was young, and pure and beautiful. Marguer- 
ite I called her, for she ever reminded me of 
unfortunate Gretchen. Like a fool I loved her 
passionately; a love, like others, not returned, 
and bestowed on another to whom she gave her 
heart. Cursing I fled from her presence; then, 
cursing still, prepared a horrible revenge. Do 
you know to what extremes jealousy will exert 
itself.? Do you know hell itself assists the re- 
vengeful? The woman, once so pure and 
cheerful, drooped and recoiled from the world, 
lifted her troubled eyes to her God and asked 


A HOPELESS CASE 


139 


for help, for pity; and then, receiving neither, 
cast herself upon the earth and cried aloud in 
her despair. Her lover sought her side, and 
pleaded to know her secret trouble — she avoided 
him and kept within the seclusion of her cham- 
ber, while her cheeks grew paler and her pray- 
ers more tearful. One day he forced an en- 
trance and demanded the truth, was made 
acquainted with her supposed perfidy and 
horror-stricken fled, cursing as I had cursed; 
she had not sinned, but carried the burden of 
sin. 

And the young girl died. 

Now I devoted myself to my science, per- 
fecting where weak, and daring into more 
brilliant fields than i had ever hoped to dare. 
So interested did I become in the fascinating 
thing that my wealth slipped unconsciously 
from my control and I found myself almost 
penniless in the streets. Robbery I never 
contemplated, and I had no friends to ask 
assistance from. One day chance threw in the 
way of a half drunken bank cashier and ob- 
taining control of his mind, I induced him to 
divulge the secret of the combination lock of 


140 


A HOPELESS CASE 


Brown and Brown’s vaults. The day previous 
he had placed a box containing money in a 
certain part of the vault and the position of this 
I clearly impressed on my mind from his de- 
scription. The same evening I obtained a wax 
impression of the key to the entrance door of 
the bank from Hoy, the watchman, by a clever 
piece of strategem of which he was none the 
wiser nor probably is to this hour. 

I must be brief, as the candle burns low. 

My next step was to procure a proper sub- 
ject for the completion of the plan; the cashier 
I found impossible to control when not under 
the influence of drugs. Suddenly I bethought 
me of a simple country boy at a farm house on 
the river with whom I had often experimented 
and with whom there could be no danger at- 
tached in carrying out my designs. As you 
may surmise, with my arts at command there 
were hundreds of familiar methods, but, select- 
ing the one easiest of consummation, I arranged 
for its completion. On my way to the farm I 
met you — a love-sick man with nothing but 
love at heart. Recognizing a proper subject 
I endeavored to keep you in sight as often as 


A HOPELESS CASE 


I4I 

possible during the journey on the boat, but 
you cleverly avoided — guided probably by .an 
instinctive impression of dislike. 

The boy at the farm had been dismissed, — 
gone, no one knew where. 

That night I returned to the city and attended 
the theatre. F rom the moment you entered the 
stage you were in my power — in you I recog- 
nized the most pliable subject I had ever attempt- 
ed to direct. Partly as an experiment and part- 
ly for amusement, I led you to believe you were 
really transformed into the character you rep- 
resented, and, noting I could easily do this, I 
conceived the idea of so magnetizing a small 
ivory image I occasionally used, that it would in 
turn act upon you. This image I sent as a gift, 
to your apartments. The sequel you well 
know. 

Everything existing has its double — its astral 
self, floating in nothingness, moving among the 
stars, drifting hither and thither aimlessly until 
called to complete, or assist in the work of its 
more pragmatic counterpart. Mayhap it is nev- 
er called — it is often so. It is not my intention 


142 


A HOPELESS CASE 


to elucidate the mysteries of these astral psychol- 
ogic 23henomena, for it is something you could 
never comprehend, I am more than a hypno- 
tist, a mere mesmerizer. Astrology has as 
much in common with the peculiar science of 
which I alone am master as has odylic force. 
So, call me what you will — hypnotist, mes- 
merizer, psychologist, metaphysician, you will 
leave unnamed what I really am. When I 
speak of your astral self, I do not promote the 
theory that it possesses the soul of the mortal. 
It is, in reality, but an invisible body which, 
when summoned to earth, becomes perceptible 
to mortal eyes as a substantial thing, yet is mere- 
ly inanimate until the soul enters the lifeless 
tenement. It was a division of soul caused by 
me that created the wonderful demeanor of 
your astral self witnessed in your dream — one 
half your vital being viewing what the other 
half was engaged in. Through obtaining con- 
trol over your too ductile mind, I succeeded in 
so charging your second self with a portion of 
you, as to make it thoroughly obey what com- 
mands I willed. It was a glorious success, a 
triumph of — but all has passed, * * 


A HOPELESS CASE I43 

Here several pages, evidently relating to as- 
trology, w’ere so hastily written as to be totally 
unintelligible. The only sentence I could dis- 
tinguish was ‘‘ The world will ever be full of 
worry and trouble and dispute; ever at war 
with itself, smiling on conflict and frowning on 
peace. Men make it so — vanity and false pride 
rule too rigidly,” and then the manuscript con- 
tinued as follows, the characters being more 
legible: 

❖ * * ic 

With the money in my possession, I fancied 
myself secure, and secluding myself in a coun- 
try house, that I might proceed with my studies 
unmolested, settled down to quietness. For a 
time nothing disturbed me. I learned of your 
arrest and smiled, determining to let the law 
deal with you as it would, A month before 
-your trial occurred, strange dreams began to 
trouble me ; day by day my magic powers grew 
less. With horror I realized some stronger will 
had sought mine out and was directing it as it 
wished. For days I fought against it — then 
succumbed; I was drawn, much against my 
will into the city. One day I walked into the 


144 


A HOPELESS CASE 


office of your attorney ; I could not guide my- 
self, force of will power drew me thither, and for 
the first time, I met a man who could influence 
me. He merely looked up on my entrance, 
smiled, and said dryly: 

‘‘ The trial occurs to-morrow; be on hand. 
You need not trouble about Hoy; I have re- 
stored him; your powers are weak.” 

Then he dismissed me. I was purple with 
passion as I left his presence. The next day I 
was on hand in the ante-chamber, but was not 
called. On the following, however, Legalboy, 
feeling his power weakening, gave me into the 
hands of officers the moment I appeared. 
When I was called, I struggled fiercely, but 
could do nothing. On the witness stand I 
made every resistance possible against the will 
of my opponent; once I won, and grasped at 
the floating hope that I should yet overcome 
him. Then I lost, and told the story. When 
I left the room I was insane with rage which 
vented itself upon you and caused you misery 
I hoped might end in death. My hypnotic 
powers had left me, all through you. I was 
helpless. They carried me to prison and 


A HOPELESS CASE I45 

placed me in a dark, foul cell, with only my 
thoughts to bear me company — thoughts to 
drive me mad. 

Legalboy has been absent for some time ; I 
know it and feel it, because a portion of my 
former powers have returned to me. To-day 
I mesmerized a mouse caught in my cell; this 
is nothing, however, little worse than feeble- 
ness — the moment the superior mind returns, 
my power will vanish once again. Why did 
you stand between science and the light? What 
is your life to mine? Compared to what I 
should have made it ? Hell and the fiends, had I 
you here in my cell, I would strangle you, and 
cut your body into shreds ! I should 

The candle has nearly melted away; its light 
is flickering and turning blue. 

To-night I shall vanish from the earth for- 
ever — dissolve into that spaceless blue you have 
so often endeavored to penetrate with your 
eyes. He has escaped,” they will say to-mor- 
row when they discover in my cell only the 
horrible shadows and hear the whispering 
voices. Then they will marvel how, for the 
lock is secure, the walls and floor are cold and 


146 


A HOPELESS CASE 


solid ; and the world will take up the question. 
Men will ever ask how and why ? And what 
do I escape, — earthly humiliation. What ex- 
change? Mortal despair for confinement and 
torture of even greater agony and horror than 
I have known here — torture, I trust, even you 
may never acquaint yourself with. But I have 
much to be grateful for in that I possess the 
power to escape humiliation — to escape con- 
tempt. Adieu, The light has gone out. 


THE END. 


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